Chapter One: Project Your Voice

Oh? And just why do I have to put up with all this again?

As the revelation washed over her, Sophelia von Lotus tilted her head in curiosity at the unexpected question.

A revelation.

And what a revelation it was. Why had she never questioned it until now? And why had she started to interrogate it now, of all times? Sophelia wasn’t bright enough to have even the slightest idea why, but that hardly mattered. Well, she could’ve realized a tad sooner, but better late than never.

That’s right, Sophelia thought to herself with a nod. I don’t need to put up with any of this!

Sophelia took a breath in. Deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper— Uh-oh, too much! I’m gonna choke! But before I do...

“Waa-aaa-aagh!!!”

She’d given that scream everything she had, so she was sure it had echoed all throughout the castle. If there was one thing she was confident about, it was her voice.

After all, Sophelia was a diligent lady of class, never once falling behind on her running or strength training. But why would a lady of class need to do strength training, you ask? To project her voice, of course. A faint, tremulous voice would’ve been charming, no doubt, perfect for attracting men. And yet, such a voice lacked persuasiveness and grace.

Even a firm, trained voice could lend itself to numerous interpretations, so Sophelia had trained to control those nuances as well. It wasn’t merely the words she spoke, or even the way she spoke them; from her tone of voice to the particulars of her breathing, Sophelia never had any other choice of reply...

Because right before her eyes was none other than her fiancé, the crown prince, half naked and entangled with another woman.

It was funny in a way, how those itty-bitty baby blues of his snapped wide open, his face a pale porcelain doll white to match. Heh heh! She struggled to contain herself—it was all over if she laughed.

Sophelia wheezed one shallow breath after another. “Y-Y-Y-Your Highness, h-how...”

No way! Sophelia took a closer look, and sure enough, the woman was her very own half sister! Seriously? You really did me a favor messing everything up like this! Thank you!

Sophelia fought back the urge to leap for joy, her body shaking with the effort. She was racked with sheer delight, but she couldn’t let them see it. Though it was painful, Sophelia continued to exhale, her vision slowly beginning to bend and blur.

“Sophelia, it’s, uh, it’s not what it looks like! Please just calm down and—”

“Y-Your Highness!” Sophelia stuttered.

Not what it looks like? What else could it possibly be, hmm?

Even as a dainty daughter of nobility, Sophelia knew all about such intimate matters. Why, instruction had even been included in her training to be the next queen. More than tea parties, mingling with Lord So-and-So, visiting orphanages, or hatching plans to vanquish monsters, she’d been told her primary duty as queen would be to give birth to an heir. She’d been in no position to call that absolute nonsense.

When it came to talk of “how to spend an evening with a gentleman,” Sophelia’s instructor had simply told her, “This is no time to get embarrassed,” with a stern expression and a textbook in hand.

That’s right, a textbook.

Of course, Sophelia had never had the chance to act upon any of its instructions, but it seemed her fiancé had been finding opportunities to practice all over the place.

Oh, is this part of your curriculum then? Or at least, that’s what she’d always wanted to ask. Instead—being the reserved and graceful lady that she was—Sophelia had kept silent at every turn. After all, it would have been simply unbecoming to share her opinions with a gentleman! She would do no good raising a fuss over a bit of fun...as she’d been told time and time and time again.

But that was all outdated now, wasn’t it? Such an attitude was a product of a bygone age, and an appalling one at that!

Time’s march forward never stopped, and the current age was for the new generation to build. It seemed too much trouble to simply sweep away customs and traditions that only brought pain, so if they were going to throw them away, then they might as well spectacularly cast them down and mop the floor with them! And it was with that same conviction that Sophelia collapsed to her knees after noticing the guard knights had arrived at the scene.

“Lady Lotus!”

Unlike her precious little sister who flaunted her snow-white skin, Sophelia was plain and unremarkable. Even if she were to look up at the knights with tear-filled eyes, she couldn’t expect much of a reaction from them.

I hope I get a little bit of a reaction at least... Sophelia thought optimistically, tipping her head up at the knight who’d called her name.

The knight had jet-black hair like velvet, lustrous even against the darkness of night. Unspeakably handsome, the knight extended his hand toward Sophelia, only to freeze up halfway.

Oh, you hesitate to touch a betrothed noble woman? My, what a gentleman!

He was quite the opposite of a certain crown prince. Hmm? Which crown prince would that be, you ask? Why, the crown prince of this very nation! That dumb, naked bastard over there practically begging people to look at those chiseled abs of his!

“H-His Highness! H-He—!”

Sophelia was clenching the knight’s clothes so tightly that her fingertips had started to go numb. On top of that, she was actually having a hard time exhaling. She’d done a fine job of hyperventilating.

Watching Sophelia shake and tremble, the knight’s gaze seemed to show he was stricken with pain. He was bafflingly attractive with his eyebrows hunched together in worry.

Hey there, what’s wrong? Did something happen? she almost wanted to ask the knight, but she also realized a lady of status hyperventilating in front of him put him in quite the bind. Not to mention the prince is right in there with the door wide open, looking like he’s ready to wrestle! Sorry, but I really need to drag you into this!

Though she wordlessly apologized to the knights who’d come bounding into the room, Sophelia couldn’t contain her joy at the growing sound of footsteps rushing inside.

Oh Gods, thank you for giving me the ultimate opportunity! I vow to use it to the fullest!

Sophelia caught herself nearly gazing up at the heavens, only for a dignified, quiet voice to call her name.

“Lady Sophelia.”

While she certainly wasn’t a particularly prideful woman, as a serious and graceful noble lady, His Majesty the King, her family, her servants—oh, and that dirty bastard over there were the only men to have ever addressed Sophelia by name.

“Huh?”

Locking eyes with the knight in surprise, Sophelia noticed his blueberry-candy-drop eyes staring back at her with care.

“Please, try to relax. Lean against me and inhale slowly. Take slow breaths. Follow my voice. Breathe in...and out. There, just like that.”

Almost as if he were stroking her back, the knight gently patted between her shoulders over and over again with the flat of his hand. The knight cradled Sophelia’s head in his other hand, gently guiding her breathing. Calmly folding her body into the knight, Sophelia found herself with her head against the knight’s uniform, almost as if it were an embrace.

You don’t need to worry! It’s not like I can die from hyperventilating. You really don’t have to take it so seriously, you know. Sophelia could’ve laughed. He was an interesting knight, this one. His Royal Sleazeball the Prince was a rotten, smelly excuse for a man, so Sophelia didn’t quite know how to make heads or tails of a knight this dependable.

I’d hoped to make a kingdom for people like him...a kingdom that wouldn’t punish the kind, Sophelia thought to herself, only to realize that she was crying.

The knight took a quick breath, gently patting Sophelia’s back again with the palm of his hand.

“There’s no need to hold back, m’lady,” the knight said. “No one is looking at you.”

He did have a point, didn’t he?

“Your Highness...!” screamed none other than the prime minister.

“Lilly!” shouted Sophelia’s father.

At this point, there wasn’t a soul who could simply turn a blind eye to a commotion like this. And every single person who’d come bounding onto the scene of the disaster found themselves in the middle of utter chaos.

Even then, Sophelia’s attempts to stop crying only left her breaths more and more shallow. Trying to hold back would only defeat the purpose, especially since she’d just now started to calm down. The knight was simply stating a fact.

But it was a kindness.

This knight certainly was something, wasn’t he?

Sophelia had always considered such kindness the stuff of fairy tales, a flight of fancy forever out of reach. She’d always thought it akin to the cuisine of the country to the east that she’d never tasted. I wonder what that spicy red soup of theirs tastes like? I’d love to try it, but I’ll likely never get the chance! It was just as simple as that, and yet...

Sophelia cast a nervous glance up at the knight.

At first, he looked as if the weight of all the world’s troubles rested on his shoulders, only to seemingly push it all down and gaze back at Sophelia with a caring smile.

“You’ve worked harder than anyone else, m’lady. You can rest now.”

“Why...?”

Why do you know that? And why are you being so kind to me?

Her voice barely above a whimper, Sophelia found her words washed away by the tears rolling down her cheeks.

His uniform had to be a mess by now. Wrinkled and tearstained, it had to look terrible. And yet, the knight neither mocked her nor struck her. He was kind. As if he’d stepped straight out of the pages of a fairy tale, he was simply kind. He was a shining, handsome man with a soft, gentle smile for her, even though his wrinkled brow made him seem on the brink of tears himself.

Sophelia gasped in surprise as the knight wiped a tear from her cheek with his fingertip. Before she knew it, Sophelia found herself grasping that same gentle hand.

You mustn’t! You mustn’t drag him into this!

She had no business laying hands on such a kind, stunning soul, but even as she reminded herself of this, Sophelia found herself holding him tightly anyway.

She yearned for those blueberry eyes that seemed to wrap the shattered remnants of her self-esteem in a warm embrace. She wanted nothing more than to lose herself in those sweet, pain-tinted eyes.

For the first time in her life, Sophelia felt something overwhelmingly ravenous within her, and yet words escaped her. How could she hope to find them? How wonderful would it be if he might only listen to her? Ashamed of herself for even thinking such, Sophelia pulled her hands off the knight’s clothes.

She would stand on her own—as she always had.

And yet, Sophelia was happy. She was aimlessly, boundlessly happy. To think that having someone recognize her efforts could be such a release! It was as if she’d been born anew.

Everything was fine. She could go anywhere.

“Thank you, Sir Livionis.”

Livionis’s eyes snapped open—those deep, blueberry eyes like a night so searingly clear you could catch a shooting star bounding across it any second. Eyes wide open, he pulled Sophelia’s hand as she tried to stand up.

Sophelia softly collapsed back into his warmth, blinking in surprise as Livionis’s soft, low voice washed over her.

“Run away with me.”

That night, everything Sophelia had scraped together and claimed for herself in her fifteen years of life transformed into stardust, shimmering in the night sky.

Chapter Two: Let Me Hear Your Voice

Livionis Warrion was a knight. Born to a long line of knights, he was destined to become one from his first cry of life.

While it wasn’t that he hadn’t dreamed of a different career—say, a gardener or a chef, or perhaps a butler—the fact was that such dreams could never come true. After all, the only world he’d ever known was the one within the walls of his family’s manor. Same as his father, and his father before him, and indeed, his father before him, and so on and so on, Livionis had found himself sent off to attend the Knight Academy, following the long tradition of the men in his family. It was only after he stepped into the outside world that he had realized his family was of considerable pedigree.

Though he was just a bit too late to realize he was hopelessly trapped.

Because from “good morning” to “good night,” rules and his family’s reputation followed him around like an obsessive girlfriend.

It reminded him of his tired-faced friend who’d always run off to dates on their days off and the familiar complaint that preceded it each time: “I wanna break up with her, but at the same time, I don’t, y’know...?”

Of course, Livionis had never even been able to think about getting a real girlfriend, so he had no idea what that was actually like, but still. He had to take the utmost care of that suffocating reputation, and depressing as it was, it was still important. It wasn’t that Livionis wanted to actually run away. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be a knight.

But he wasn’t convinced.

He hadn’t even been given the choice. Why did he have to bear the burden of their expectations and spend every moment of the day swinging his sword, running around, and listening to his instructor berate him over every tiny mistake? It made sense, but it didn’t really.

And then one day—just one moment out of the blue, without so much as a warning—Livionis fell in love.

It all started when his father had taken him to the Knights’ drill grounds during a break from the Academy.

“I’ll be generous and spar with you,” another boy, about Livionis’s size, declared with no small amount of self-importance. He was the only one on the sparring grounds wearing a helmet.

Figuring the boy was the son of one of the higher-ups, Livionis took him up on his offer and made a half-hearted swing at the boy with his wooden sword. With the many nobles that attended the Knight Academy alongside him, Livionis knew a thing or two about humoring egos with his swordplay.

“Is that all you’ve got?!” The boy snorted, making it clear he wasn’t too bright. Even then, Livionis made a show of clenching his teeth in frustration. Livionis’s performance rivaled any star actor’s, so much so that his father could only watch on disapprovingly.

Noticing the knight moderating their match give an uneasy laugh, Livionis was still clearheaded enough to consider tossing the match.

But thirteen-year-old Livionis had just a bit of a temper. He was quick to anger, and just like a gorilla, the angrier he got, the stronger he got.

“This is the best Warrion’s eldest can do?! What a disgrace!” the boy shouted. “If I were you, I’d be too ashamed to even get within a mile of the drill grounds! I’d love to see your father’s face right about now! Well, why don’t you show me, Lord War—?”

“Huh?” The next thing Livionis knew, he’d sent the boy in armor flying through the air.

He soon found out that the armored brat was no mere noble’s son either; he was none other than His Highness the Crown Prince.

Wait, seriously?!

After Livionis sent His Royal Brattiness flying without any idea he was the prince, Livionis’s father spared no effort laying into him.

“Just saying you didn’t know won’t cut it!” his father warned.

If he didn’t want to get punched, then he shouldn’t have been playing around on the Knights’ drill grounds! Or picking fights either! Besides, I couldn’t even see the brat’s face with that shabby armor he had! And if you knew who he was, why didn’t you say anything?! Even if Livionis’s retorts were on the tip of his tongue, it went without saying that he wasn’t allowed to voice a word of them.

He knew full well that getting on his knees beside his father and pleading for forgiveness wouldn’t earn him a lucky break. If it hadn’t been for the good offices of the Captain of the Knights, the Warrion line could’ve very well ended right there on the spot.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, lad. Don’t worry,” the captain said with a smile, so quietly that only Livionis could hear him, before looking over at the prince. “Hope you finally knocked some sense into him.”

The captain’s voice was barely even a whisper, but Livionis heard him loud and clear.

But still...

By the time his father was through, it was too much of a bother to sulk off to the medic’s room, so Livionis wiped the blood from his nose and plodded off, without any particular destination in mind.

Maybe I should let them know just how much of a tyrant my father really is! Livionis thought, considering the smallest act of rebellion. On the other hand, his father had given him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. He walked on, with a swollen cheek and a shirt stained with blood and dirt. He might get another “lesson” out of it, but that was fine. If worse came to worst, he could just sheepishly explain that he’d gotten lost and make his most sincere and humble apology from the bottom of his heart.

After a while, Livionis made his way to a quiet garden filled with colorful flowers swaying gently in the wind.

All the gardens Livionis knew were utterly terrifying places where women giggled with fans in hand and exchanged fake smiles and faker compliments, so Livionis nodded to himself and made the swift decision to turn back.

A moment’s decision meant life or death on the battlefield. Should you flee to the right, dodge to the front, or flee to the rear? Or do you perhaps leap into the air? Out of all the endless options, correct choices were few and far between. It was a matter of taking the riskier yet sound option and putting it into action in a fraction of a moment. That was Livionis’s specialty after all.

That settled it—all the more reason to retreat.

Stopping Livionis in his tracks just as he was about to leave, however, was a small, quiet voice.

It was a sniffly, faint whisper of a voice.

Livionis’s instructor had praised his sharp senses—as sharp as any beast’s—and it was precisely because of them that he was able to pick up on the voice at all.

Yup, no one else would’ve heard that! Livionis thought to himself as he headed toward the voice.

He couldn’t just leave them there if they were lost. I mean, I’m kind of lost too, but at least I’ve got a handkerchief. Livionis thought to himself, wiping his still-bleeding nose. Man, the bleeding just won’t stop! Guess being a hot-blooded thirteen-year-old just makes you bleed more.

Pushing aside the rustling trees in his path, Livionis was greeted by a sight that made his eyes snap open in surprise: a young girl with bright green hair the color of a fresh sprout.

Her dark, chestnut-colored eyes were wide, perfectly round, and brimming with tears. Her cheeks were bright red, and though the teardrops filling her eyes looked like they could spill over any minute, she must’ve been holding them back. Her fists were clenched white on top of her knees.

“Um, are you okay...miss?”

After a moment of consideration, the girl said, “I should ask you the same.”

She had a point.

“I’m fine,” Livionis said with a nod, sniffing up some of the blood still spilling from his nose. “Happens all the time.”

“Nosebleeds?”

That would make him just sound like a weirdo, so he wanted to set the record straight. “No, getting punched by my dad.”

“Your father...?”

Uh-oh. Maybe that was just a bit extreme for the girl. It was probably not the sort of thing a dainty young lady on the verge of tears needed to hear. Then again, he had stepped onto shaky ground the moment he appeared on the scene a bloody mess. Now how am I gonna smooth this over? Livionis thought to himself, searching his mind for a topic that wasn’t so violent.

“So I’m not the only one, then.”

“Huh?” Livionis’s eyes widened at the words the girl had forced from her mouth.

“Yeah.”

So he hadn’t heard wrong. “Want me to punch your old man right back?” Livionis’s father was frighteningly stern, but in the same measure he was frighteningly kind to his wife. His father wasn’t just sweet and sappy with his mother—he was absolute mush.

His father was a dishonorable man who would extol the virtues of knighthood while he punched Livionis and his younger brother into the next week. Yet...

“Under no circumstances are you ever to injure a lady!” his father had barked while they were sparring one day.

“Then how about you stop injuring kids too, huh?!” his younger brother had bitten back, before being launched through the air as if he weighed nothing.

And what of Livionis? Needless to say, Livionis had obediently replied, “Yes, father,” while extending his middle finger behind his back. Something must’ve given him away, because the next thing he knew, a swift kick from his father had sent him flying.

Growing up in an environment like that, the only conclusion Livionis could reach was that any dirty scum who dared punch the little girl in front of him deserved to be wiped off the face of the earth. That wasn’t excessive. It was just tradition.

The girl shook her head, eyes wide in shock. “You can’t do that. That’ll mean a scolding for sure!”

A scolding for me? Or for you? Livionis thought to himself with a grin, proud of himself for being such a considerate thirteen-year-old, despite what appearances might suggest.

“It’s fine. My old man’s not quite right in the head, but he told me to kill each and every bastard who’d dare abuse someone weaker than him.” The fact that he wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest was a testament to his father’s character.

The young girl blinked and laughed. “That’s a wonderful father you’ve got, isn’t it?”

“That’s what made you think so?”

Even though Livionis was a bit remorseful for bringing up such a violent topic, the girl who’d been on the verge of bawling her eyes out just a few moments ago was now smiling as if she’d forgotten all about it.

Her face was soft and warm—sweet, just like sugar.

Making sure not to dirty the girl’s dress, Livionis carefully sat down beside her.

“My father’s an absolute barbarian. He thinks it’s fine to beat up his sons and subordinates as much as he wants as long as he calls it ‘training.’” Livionis sniffed as the blood continued to run from his nose. Jeez, this just won’t stop. Damn that old bastard... “I know full well I’ve got to become a great knight for the kingdom, though.”

That was the house he’d been born into, and there was no changing that.

Livonis knew all about the riches and luxury that came with it precisely because they had a duty to produce great knights—that was the sort of house they were. It only made sense that he’d have to pay the price in turn. He understood, but he couldn’t help but wonder at the same time if that was what they’d chosen to protect instead.

“I’d be more than happy to hunt monsters all day,” Livionis said, sighing into his shirt, now stained a murky black from wiping the blood from his nose.

The girl gave a small laugh. “My parents always make sure to save the violence for when no one else is looking, even during my studies. It’s almost rude to compare your saint of a father to them.”

So her mom’s a dirtbag too? Can that even be a thing?

Livionis’s mother was a merciless master of arguments, and when she got angry, she never left Livionis so much as an opening to defend himself in the middle of her rapid-fire verbal onslaught. Still, she wasn’t one to shout hysterically at him or strike him. She was always a noble lady with a noble air, and a skilled actress who knew how to put on the young and innocent maiden look in front of his father.

Livionis tried to imagine a mother lifting her hand against a young girl, only to denounce it as an outright impossibility.

“They do it when no one’s looking, right? So that means they have to know they’re doing something they shouldn’t be. Even if there was someone there to see it, my father would punch me all the same. Want me to do society a favor and get rid of them?” Livionis really was excessive. But what was he to do? It was family tradition, after all.

The girl snickered, seeming to think he was joking. “I think your father wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

“If he were the type to get upset about that sort of thing, the Knights would’ve given him the boot a long time ago,” Livionis replied. If he wound up in hot water, he’d just run away from home while he was at it.

“It’s fine... I just haven’t been trying hard enough, that’s all,” the girl said.

Livionis furrowed his brow. This girl who hadn’t shed a single tear wasn’t working hard enough?

“That’s nonsense.”

“Perhaps,” the girl replied, then laughed. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Livionis had a fairly good idea.

While to her, Livionis might’ve just been another face in the crowd, there was only one girl who stood beside the crown prince. Livionis had seen her before, at tea parties and celebrations with a brilliant smile plastered on her face. She was always smiling—a beautiful, radiant smile.

Faced with unashamed flattery or biting sarcasm, and even the sort of nastiness that would leave Livionis secretly gagging in disgust, the girl sat upright and unbending.

That royal bastard was even causing problems for the Knights, and yet he lived as free as a bird. But this girl who refused to cry, even when she was all alone, wasn’t trying hard enough? Who on earth could’ve ever told her something so absurd?

It made Livionis want to vomit.

“That’s the house I was born to. I simply wish to fulfill my duties,” the girl said with a soft smile. “So you needn’t worry.” She spoke like a noblewoman, her gaze strong and firm. “After all, if my efforts don’t match yours, how can I ever hope to ever support His Grace?”

And he’s worth all that? Livionis couldn’t even bring himself to joke about it.

The girl’s eyes rested half closed, their gaze so sincere he could almost cry. They held strength and a kindness that brought a pain to his heart, and also a tragic fragility.

Her eyes were clear, the dark brown of tea—and Livionis couldn’t stop looking at them—which sent him into even more of a desperate scramble when he felt a handkerchief against his face.

“It’ll get filthy!”

“That’s what handkerchiefs are for.”

“They’re not for wiping off some brute’s blood!”

The girl giggled happily at Livionis’s reaction, watching his alarm at the soft feel of the handkerchief. “Mine’s quite cheap, so there’s nothing to fret over.”

“Cheap’s the last thing it is!”

As much as he wanted to peel her hand from his face, there was just no way he could grab the girl’s slender hands with his own, stained with dirt and blood.

The girl wiped Livionis’s face off without the slightest hint of worry in her expression, despite Livionis’s frantic scramble. He found himself even more startled when he realized just how close the girl’s face was to his. She was even cuter up close.

Seemingly oblivious to the fact that Livionis’s young, thirteen-year-old heart was on the verge of exploding, the girl continued to wipe and pat away at Livionis’s face with the handkerchief.

Calm down, you have to calm down. Livionis thought, remembering the bearlike face of his instructor. Even then, Livionis couldn’t tear his eyes away from the girl’s face.

The girl’s eyes were like two round, sweet caramel candies. Her eyebrows curved upward, and the bridge of her nose was straight as an arrow. Her small lips were the color of cherries, and her softly sun-kissed skin glistened with life.

Living in the company of brutes every day, Livionis couldn’t help but stare, wondering if she were even from the same planet.

That’s why Livionis caught every word of it.

“I’ll work just as hard as you to make this a country you won’t regret serving.”

That voice, like young leaves sprinkled by mist on a bitingly cold morn, those words she spoke...Livionis didn’t miss so much as a syllable of it.

The words that softly escaped her lips—like a vow, like a declaration, like an admonition—were almost certainly never intended to be heard, but Livionis wouldn’t allow her voice to slip through his grasp.

Livionis fell in love with that voice.

It was wonderful—the type of love that upends everything about the person you were before it. It wasn’t enough to say that it had all been turned upside down. It was the sort of love that sent you for a total loop ending up right back where you started, except everything from your pockets to your brains had been turned inside out.

It didn’t change the fact that Livionis would become a knight, or that his instructor was insufferably strict, or that his friend was always thinking of his girlfriend at every turn, or that the girl was betrothed to the crown prince. None of that had changed at all, but for Livionis, it was so painful he could hardly stand it.

He felt an unrelenting ache to protect the girl, no matter what it took.

Ah, love! What a damned wonderful thing it was! It only made sense that romance novels were so popular!

He just had to help that girl somehow!

Livionis tried frantically explaining it all to his father on their carriage ride back, only for his father to mutter back “Ah, I see” or “Is that so?” before giving Livionis a rough pat on the head.

The hell? C’mon old man!

“And did this young lady ask for your help?” his father asked.

Livionis hated when his father did that—asking a question he already knew the answer to.

“No...”

“Figured as much,” his father said with a nod.

Livionis wanted to knock the old man’s mug into next week, but unfortunately, he wasn’t yet strong enough. Instead, he only glanced over and noticed his father’s gaze had narrowed as if he were watching some inevitable travesty.

“A knight’s duty is to save one and all, but that doesn’t mean we can save everyone.”

Livionis glared into his father’s eyes defiantly, the same purple hue as his own.

“Can it, old man!”

It was no surprise he found himself on the receiving end of a punch.

“Lady Sophelia’s mother is deceased.”

His father had given him a sound thrashing he had been helpless to fight back against, and even though he’d flailed around until his spirit and stamina were at their breaking points, Livionis still couldn’t forget her voice, her gaze—her smile.

“It’s a hard thing to foster new connections,” Livionis’s mother told him that night, speaking slowly. “I’m sure Lady Sophelia’s desperately trying to build a connection with her new mother and younger sister right now.” His mother’s words weren’t sugarcoated, but they were covered in a layer of polite niceties as thick as the quilt he was burying his head in.

“In a fistfight, people can only come to an understanding when they’re both allowed to throw punches,” Livionis said discontentedly, puffing out his cheeks. “And if I’m being honest, that’s just for barbarians like father anyway!”

As the son of that same barbarian, whether it was sugarcoating, a quilt, or even gelatin, he hated being wrapped up in manners and etiquette. He wasn’t a fan of exchanging blows, but he had to give it credit for being a simple language. At the end of the day, he was, after all, the son of a barbarian.

“I know, dear,” his mother said. “But you understand, don’t you, my sweet little Livvy? She’s engaged to the crown prince. I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple.”

Livionis was a smart boy. He’d been raised by his mother, a noblewoman, and his father, who had something of a standing in the Knights. Of course, he got it. He understood it full well.

It was just like the time he’d stepped in to help one of his peers who was being bullied: The moment Livionis punched the offender, the boy he’d helped had claimed he’d never been bullied at all, and Livionis had immediately been labeled a violent rule breaker. He knew that problems of this sort were delicate matters.

He didn’t harbor an inkling of resentment toward the boy.

It was the adults who had refused to lend an ear to the discordant sound of the boy’s teeth chattering in fear who were the real scum. The boy himself was prideful through and through, but it was his family—scoundrels that perpetuated meaningless violence—who were the real scum. The boy wasn’t in the wrong.

It was just as Livionis’s father had said. Even a knight doesn’t have the slightest idea where to go unless there’s a cry for help. He understood that.

And yet, even then...even then.

What of the boy who couldn’t ask for help even if he wanted to? What of the girl’s silent plea for help? Where would they wind up? It was all so meaningless, so frustrating, so tragic, that Livionis couldn’t hold back his tears.

Even when he was told off and beaten by his instructor, even when his father had broken his bones, Livionis had never cried once.

But that night, Livionis couldn’t forgive himself—couldn’t forgive how powerless and small he was, how weak he was, watching the girl walk away the same way he hadn’t been able to stop the other boy from leaving the Academy behind.

He cried for himself. The misery and frustration of it all was just too much.

“It’s well-known that Lady Sophelia’s father couldn’t settle for the marriage that their families had arranged for him and Sophelia’s mother,” his mother said. “He’d found another lover for himself, so when he and his new wife welcomed a daughter into the family so soon after Lady Sophelia’s mother passed, none were surprised. Indeed...I’m sure even Lady Sophelia herself was not shocked.” Livionis’s mother was well-versed in all the rumors whispered in the fashionable circles.

Livionis clenched his fist tight in anger as his mother went about calmly explaining away the infuriating injustices.

“Her family traces its lineage to the royal bloodline,” she continued, “so His Majesty hoped to avoid its downfall. Lady Sophelia understands all of this full well, which is precisely why she is able to smile and hold her head high, no matter the occasion.” His mother paused. “The kingdom will hold on to such wisdom.”

In other words, there wasn’t a thing in the world that Livionis could do.

She was the one standing there with that brilliant smile, claiming there was nothing wrong at all. No matter what befell her, the answer would always be that nothing was wrong.

It was a damned pile of nonsense—that’s what it was.

“I put up with father and my instructor beating me left and right so I can get strong enough to protect others! So then what the hell is this, huh?! Damn it all to hell!”

“You got that handsome face of yours from me, so don’t go spoiling it with such vulgarities.”

The adults all told Livionis to give up with their words—and their fists.

Livionis was a child, and for a while, he could only submit before the power they wielded. But even Livionis came to learn that reckless actions would damage the good name of his house.

Had Livionis been of the right mind to give up, he would’ve escaped from his father’s fists long ago. But no man of the Warrions was the type to change his colors frivolously. Well, he couldn’t speak for all of them, but he did come from a long line of barbarians, after all. Why don’t you give up then, how about that?!

After wrestling with his thoughts all night long, Livionis made an oath:

He vowed that he would live a life true to his love.

In the wake of his vow, Livionis started by graduating from the Knight Academy three years early.

Pretty impressive. I can do things when I put my mind to them. But I already knew that.

Even if only from a distance, Livionis wanted to go fight alongside the girl who wrestled against something far larger than that tiny frame of hers.

He wanted to join the Knights as soon as he could.

With a wholehearted resolve, Livionis had been reborn as an exceptional student—an exceptional warrior student who’d trained well into the night to transform himself.

Before then, not only had Livionis been hotheaded, but he’d been a lazy slacker of a student who kept his grades just high enough to advance to the next year of study. When it came right down to it, he had been a problem child.

It had been a busy time for him—constantly getting cold stares, making others jealous, and driving them to tears of emotion—but in the end, he’d been successful in graduating quickly.

He’d been busy for sure. He’d transformed into the very epitome of busyness!

As much as it pained Livionis to say, the consensus on the woman he loved, His Highness the Crown Prince’s fiancée, was—oh, how to put it...? Complete and utter sacrilege though it might be, the consensus was far from positive.

Everyone should have been well aware of the fact that it was the prince’s betrothed keeping him afloat through all his gallivanting, but the younger generation was more fixated on her young half sister who went out of her way to seem dazzling and charming.

Pray tell, just what the hell was that?

What. The. Hell.

And that’s just what Livionis had replied when one of his peers came strolling by, a drooling, smitten mess.

“Come to think of it, I met Lady Lilina at a tea party when I was back home, and she was a looker if I’ve ever seen one! As nice as they come too. Quite the opposite of her older sister.”

“What the hell?” Livionis replied. “Her older sister’s a looker too! And she’s super nice!”

“Well, it’s not like she’s not cute. It’s just, she’s, uh, a little...plain? Too stiff. And get this!” He added, “Apparently she’s always hard on Lady Lilina too! Guess a high-ranking noble girl like that’s bound to be on one helluva high horse!”

“That’s it. Get out.”

“Get out? Why?”

From that day forth, Livionis bore the title of “Chief Excessive Officer of the Next Crown Princess Fan Club.” Livionis was the only member of the club. He couldn’t fathom why.

But it was a blessing that no one realized Livionis was a healthy young man consumed in the flames of love. Livionis had no contact with the girl, and all the other knights in training who lived in that messy Academy had a goddess of their own imagination keeping them company, so none thought it strange. Not only that, but knowing that the goddess he dreamed of would one day be the nation’s queen mother, Livionis found himself commended time and time again as a shining example of a knight loyal to the royal family.

It was a stroke of luck, as sweet as cake that had fallen right into his mouth. Even if he cursed that damned prince and royal family from the bottom of his gut, no one was any wiser to it.

Whenever he heard those dimwits spreading unsavory rumors about the girl, Livionis took it as a fortunate opportunity to extol her brilliance. Not that he was close enough to her to really be able to talk, but still.

And yet, here and there, as he investigated matters...he found traces of her.

“Hey, you! What’s that you’ve got there, hmm?”

“This? It’s cake.”

“That’s right—cake,” Livionis repeated. “Every day, we get absolutely dragged through the wringer and worked to the bone, but then we get three wonderful meals—and cake alongside it. It’s a dessert.”

Livionis continued his sermon. “You must have known that was an act of benevolence from Her Grace, and yet you just proclaimed that her younger sister would be a better match for His Highness, did you not?”

“What...?” The man’s fork fell to the ground with a clang as his plate was smacked up into his face, covering him in fresh cream frosting.

“And you there!”

“Huh? Me?”

“What’s that you’ve got?” Livionis demanded, pointing to another man who stared back at him with a dumbstruck expression.

“It’s a...chessboard?” the man replied.

The dining hall had desserts and tea and plenty of seats, so there were many students at the Academy who would relax there after they’d finished their meals.

“And what are you doing?” Livionis asked the man sitting beside the other.

“Huh? I’m reading a novel,” he replied.

Looking closely, Livionis realized the man was older than him but nonetheless seemed to be swept up in what was happening, so maybe he was in the clear to continue. He made it a point to let out a long, forced sigh. “Do you realize that all of that, everything is thanks to her?” he asked, slowly casting his gaze across the noisy dining hall.

Gwah ha ha! This is perfect! Know the truth and tremble, knaves! Kneel down and worship at her feet!

“There are many among you who remember well how the Academy used to be,” Livionis announced. “We were allowed no form of recreation and were given only the most modest of meals! Such restrictions were supposed to be a part of our training, so that we might stand strong against the trials of the battlefield.”

“That’s right...” A group of older students who’d been at the Academy before Livionis were dabbing at the tears that had welled in their eyes at the memory.

Livionis spoke with the utmost kindness to both the men trembling in fear as they imagined the brutality he described and the ones who shrank away as they recalled the brutality of the past.

“Her Grace took pity on us! She claimed that it was essential for us to have an environment to amply rest our minds and bodies so that we might wield our power to the fullest should the need ever arise! Claiming it only fitting for those who would endure great hardships for their country, she made her plea directly to the Captain of the Knights and, in turn, the headmaster and passed the budget for her proposal.”

Watching his easily captivated peers stare back at him with eyes wide in astonishment, Livionis raised his voice with growing excitement. “Are there any among you who can do the same?! Any hero who could speak up to those bears in power?!”

On that note, Livionis certainly couldn’t, nor did he even think to try. Negotiating directly with a ring of violent brutes who looked to their weapons over their words, even though it wouldn’t help you in the slightest? It was absurd! There was simply no way he could ever do such a thing.

All for a gang of filthy ruffians he didn’t even know? If it were up to him, they could all go to hell. Protecting himself was more important. Protecting his life was more important. And yet, Lady Sophelia had calmly done just that, going out of her way to help them, all while claiming it was for the kingdom. The meals and recreational time were small things on their own, but when the scoundrels found out about them, they were brought to tears.

“I’ll join the fan club...”

“Me too...”

Her work had brought just a bit of happiness into someone else’s life. It mattered.

Deeply frustrated, Livionis had been on the verge of ripping up all the documents he had gathered as evidence of Lady Sophelia’s efforts because only the mean-spirited adults in power were ignorant of them. While they might not have placed much weight on her seemingly small accomplishments, he’d declare their cumulative weight as proof of her abilities and saddle them with the truth.

No, it should be known far and wide, all across the land!

Because of those stuffy adults, the younger generation had heard nothing of her benevolent deeds, instead leaving only worthless criticism to fall upon her. Or perhaps they were worried her image was too pristine when compared to the prince’s sullied reputation. In truth, as Livionis’s investigation had found, the girl was instrumental in all of the accomplishments that had been attributed to the prince.

To say it seemed suspicious would’ve been an understatement.

You have other things you should be covering up besides her hard work, you royal bastards! Spitting out such complaints, Livionis went about extolling each and every one of the “small” luxuries to the ruffians whenever he had the chance.

He felt like a missionary. Even after he graduated, Livionis continued his work converting people from the Church of Lilina.

And so, the Chief Excessive Officer of the fan club he didn’t even remember making welcomed his sixteenth birthday.

As Livionis continued to rise ever upward, he grew closer and closer to the prince—meaning he heard many stories he would rather have not.

When Livionis had seen the girl smiling all on her own at a soiree one evening, he’d had to desperately hold himself back from leaping to her side right then and there.

Each and every part of her had been so charmingly captivating that he couldn’t stand it: her fresh-sprout green hair that she’d learned to tie up somewhere along the way; her delectably sweet caramel eyes; her lips, now featuring a hint of crimson, highlighting her grown-up face. She was so dangerously attractive that it had taken everything in him to resist the urge to abandon his post as guard.

And now, here she was.

The girl Livionis had dreamed of was right there in his arms.

Livionis had fantasized about it, prayed for it, dreamed of it: the feel of her hair, her real smile, the moment she cried the tears she’d held back—a world where she would no longer be forced to endure. Livionis had opted to fight alongside her of his own volition, and now, she was there in his arms, looking up at him.

It was far from uncommon for the crown prince to disappear in the middle of a party at the castle. While Livionis had his own opinions on the allowance of such a thing, the fact of the matter was that it was simply a standard of the country they lived in.

Would you look at that? Looks like this whole kingdom’s just as dumb as ever today!

Rumor had it that the second prince’s supporters were plotting an insurrection. Livionis was torn as to whether he should secretly support them in hopes they’d give it their best shot. He was at a loss about seeing how his father felt on the matter.

Livionis had plenty of reasons to celebrate the possibility of His Royal Dumbass being stripped of the throne, but it was unacceptable to imagine all of the girl’s hard-fought efforts so far going to waste. As adept as he was at making spontaneous decisions, Livionis had no choice but to exercise caution on the matter.

It’d be nice if I could just go up and ask her what she wanted to do. But I would’ve talked to her ages ago if that were possible!

Not so much as a scratch could befall such a refined and noble young woman without drawing attention. So just how could he talk to her without raising suspicions from the public...?

That’s it! he thought. I could dress up as a woman!

Livionis found himself thinking about the matter quite seriously, despite how unseriously he’d been taking his guard duties.

His task at hand was to find His Royal Birdbrain, the crown prince. A fortuitous excuse, he thought with a grin.

Right around when the prince and the famously beautiful Liliana had left the party, the girl—Lilina’s older half sister—had taken her leave as well.

It was unthinkable to imagine the girl walking about all alone on a night so drenched in wine and spirits. Livionis had set about searching for her, energetically calling on his peers to help him find the prince. The prince was no concern of his. After all, he was off working hard somewhere. Working hard at what, Livionis wouldn’t say.

As they ran about, Livionis heard a piercing scream echo through the halls, so startling that it seemed his heart might leap from his mouth, do a triple twirl in the air, and then dash away. Livionis’s feelings required no explanation.

It was a deathly terror.

The moment he saw her crouched and trembling in the cold hallway, his freshly caught heart felt like it might shout, “I’m freeeee! See ya!” and then dash out full speed ahead.

In a display of gentlemanly behavior only fitting for the Chief Excessive Officer of the fan club, Livionis fought back the urge to lift the girl up in his arms—a feat that would have surely earned him the admiration of all the other fan club members.

Although, to be fair, that was about as “gentlemanly” as Livionis got. After all, he wasn’t a gentleman—he was only acting like one. When it came right down to it, he was still a barbarian at heart.

“H-His Highness! H-He—!”

The moment those quivering, tear-filled caramel eyes of hers—kind, yet worn with the scars of suffering—looked up at him, it was all over.

Everything—all of it went out the door.

Livionis had resolved himself to be a knight who would watch over her from a distance so as to never sully her resolution or get in her way. But he dropped such pretenses—along with his duties—in the span of a moment.

Oh, I’m terribly sorry, sir. We’re closed for the day. Come back soon! What’s that? You want to know when we’ll be open again...?

Hell if I know!

“Lady Sophelia.” Livionis finally called her name. It was a treasured, important name, so much so that he’d hesitated to even say it. But he called her name.

“Huh?”

The girl’s perfectly round eyes looked up at Livionis in shock.

Her eyes—that little girl’s eyes—were just as they had been that day. He remembered them as if it were only yesterday. Watching her, Livonis’s stare narrowed into a warm, caring gaze.

Hold up, this is bad! I feel like I might cry!

“Please, try to relax. Lean against me and inhale slowly. Take slow breaths. Follow my voice. Breathe in...and out. There, just like that.”

She was hyperventilating, so Livionis lay her down as gently as he could. Carefully stroking her fresh-sprout green hair, Livionis guided her breathing, only to notice His Royal Numbnuts half naked with Lilina on the opposite side of the room.

So that’s what happened.

The girl—Sophelia—had finally, finally given up on that royal pile of excrement! Sophelia was both strong and clever, so the fact that she was this beside herself was almost certainly an attempt to make an even bigger scene. He was the Chief Excessive Officer of the fan club, after all, and his assessment was not to be underestimated.

Normally, Sophelia would’ve just feigned ignorance or made efforts to conceal how shaken she was. But it was also true that Sophelia had been hurt time and time again—so much that her patience had been worn to rags.

Did you think you could keep the truth from the Chief Excessive Officer of your fan club?

Calling upon all of his spirit and strength, Livionis patted her back as gently as he possibly could. When he cast his gaze to their surroundings, Livionis wanted to laugh. He might as well have been looking at a painting of hell itself.

Luckily, his peers who’d come bounding over, Knight I and Knight II, were members of the fan club. Noticing Sophelia trembling in Livionis’s arms, the two knights nodded in understanding. Making sure not to get too close to Livionis, the two lined up in front of him from a bit of a distance to keep careful watch.

In addition to the two knights who were trying to shield Livionis and Sophelia, more knights and soldiers appeared on the scene one after the other, followed by the prime minister, the minister, the head of House Lotus, his wife, and—oh!—even His Majesty the King.

Livionis looked up at Knight I and Knight II in surprise, and the two gave him a big wink. Gross.

No, that wasn’t what they were implying! They’d called everyone. The fan club members had gathered this crowd. Livionis would’ve done the same.

To the knights and soldiers, he would’ve said, “Something’s happened with His Highness the Prince!” To the palace leaders, he would’ve said, “His Highness the Prince, he... Well, we, uh...” making sure to imply something scandalous. And he would’ve told the head of House Lotus, “Lady Lilina’s in an emergency!” After making sure to tell them all stories that were just different enough, he’d do everything in his power to shepherd them onto the scene.

The two knights would’ve been able to synchronize all this by making full use of the newly introduced devices—capable of transmitting information in an instant—that they’d been given by their instructor at the Academy. They more than lived up to their roles as members of the Next Crown Princess Fan Club! Everything they’d done was excessive. It was no surprise though. It was simply the Chief Excessive Officer’s family tradition. So what they would do, they must do quickly—and thoroughly.

“It’s all going to be okay,” Livionis whispered into her ear, which was adorned with a glistening blue gemstone.

You can cry. I want you to cry all you can.

All this time, she could’ve cried whenever she wanted to—she should’ve cried. But Livonis was certain that the princess he’d pledged his love to had never shed a tear even once.

“There’s no need to hold yourself back, m’lady,” Livionis said. “No one is looking at you.”

Sophelia lifted her face up apprehensively. Another tear tumbled from her wide-open eyes. All the fragments of Sophelia’s resolve crumbled away and spilled out, drop by drop.

How did she cry so beautifully and sorrowfully all at once? It was a painful cry, as if she’d been slashed with a blade. Who could ever leave this small, little girl all alone?

Simultaneously wishing to curse the world itself and yet finding himself unable to resent the world Sophelia lived in, Livionis chuckled to himself. He was sure his face looked like a botched mess. While Livionis had long taken pride in his reputation as a handsome knight, his face was doing him no good now. His expression must’ve seemed so unbecoming. He was just a small little knight, with nothing to his name. He held neither title nor royal rank. He was a barbarian and nothing more.

Yet even then, Livionis was certain he knew Sophelia better than anyone.

“You’ve worked harder than anyone else, m’lady,” Livionis said. He’d been watching her the whole time. He’d been yearning for her all the while. Sophelia had lived a life where she would bleed more readily than she would ever shed a tear. He knew Sophelia. “You can rest now.”

“Why...?”

Why, you ask? Why simply because I’ve been secretly watching you. Because I’m the Chief Excessive Officer of your fan club. Because I adore you.

None of which Livionis could bring himself to say. Seeing Sophelia helpless and forlorn like a lost child, Livionis felt powerless. He might’ve been excessive, but he had sworn never to hurt Sophelia.

Please, rest easy. I beg of you. Livionis smiled, as if praying she would listen.

The font of feelings sprung up endlessly from within him. If even a fragment of his feelings reached her, then it would all be okay. If Sophelia opened her heart to him even a fraction of an inch, then it would all be fine.

Wiping away her tears with his gloves, Livionis found her grasping his hand. He noticed her trembling eyes, her lips—

Livionis felt like he could shout.

Ask me.

I beg of you. Ask.

Livionis had been waiting for her to ask him for so, so long. Had she only asked the question, he would’ve dropped everything to run to her side. He would’ve thrown away everything to answer her call. He could do anything—he would do anything.

So, please, just—

“Thank you, Sir Livionis.”

Huh?

What? Ha ha, of course! That was who she was.

Livionis knew. He knew full well. He knew full well that Sophelia hadn’t even the slightest idea that Livionis’s heart was trembling in anticipation. Livionis knew it so well he could laugh; no matter how worn down and battered she was, she was going to stand up on her own. He knew better than anyone and everyone else that she would look at him with all that pain and yet never voice a word of it.

After all, it was that same beauty of Sophelia that Livionis had fallen in love with.

It’s all fine now. It’s okay. I hear you. And Livionis had heard her.

Hey, you asked. You asked, right? You asked the question, didn’t you? Any guy who could ignore you has no right to call himself a man! Not when your face and voice could make anyone watching fall apart.

Livionis certainly couldn’t ignore her.

I’m hearing things? If I am, then so be it.

If Sophelia said the word, Livionis would proudly call black white, call cats dogs, and call mice lions. He’d kneel down and offer his service to any fool for her. If it meant living such a life, then Livionis would protect her as a knight till the end of his days.

Apologies for being such a conceited fool—I’ll get on my knees to beg for forgiveness or whatever you might ask of me.

So, when she returned to his arms with only the slightest tug, Livionis held her as tight as he could.

“Run away with me.”

Allow me to be the one and only man in this world who will never miss your plea for help.

Incidentally it wouldn’t be until the next morning that, trembling with emotion, Livionis realized that she knew his name.

Ha ha, guess I really was nervous! Now that’s not like me!

Chapter Three: Answer with a Bold Voice!

It was spring.

Spring had come to the world. Flowers bloomed with reckless abandon, the sun sang, and the wind played a melodic fanfare. The world was warm and soft.

Responsibilities? Duties? What are those? Are they tasty? Sophelia’s thoughts grew more foolish by the minute.

Foolish? Why, that makes it sound like I was smart in the first place! Sophelia thought to herself with a laugh. Had she been a bit smarter, she would’ve been able to make it through life more easily.

For example, Sophelia had known that her father had taken plenty of lovers before he’d ever married her mother. She also knew that he had no intention of changing his ways after her birth.

From the sound of it, Sophelia’s father had never seen eye to eye with her grandfather, so it was no surprise that he was less than pleased with the partner her grandfather had picked out for him.

At least, that’s what she’d assumed. But when her father brought back her stepmother, Sophelia found herself strangely making peace with the fact that her own mother had never had a chance. Her stepmother was stunningly beautiful, with her wavy pink hair and shimmering lips.

The arranged marriage hadn’t been the issue; her mother just hadn’t been his type. All she could do was laugh.

Ha ha! Laugh away!

So just what sort of person had Sophelia’s mother been then? Why, she’d been the very portrait of a noblewoman, far removed from anything of charm or flair. She’d been a plain, classical type who valued history. She’d valued it a great deal.

She’d been in the habit of proclaiming the proper place of a noble or a lady and held it a virtue to never oppose her husband’s wishes. She would direct the same smile she put on for her husband toward Sophelia, her own flesh and blood, so it always felt somehow cold and indifferent.

Thinking back on it now, her mother had probably hated her father—and with good reason. Her mother had hated herself. And just who could love a man with countless lovers all across the land? Sophelia was his flesh and blood, so her mother probably hadn’t cared much for her either.

But back then, little Sophelia had known nothing of the outside world. She’d never felt sad or lonely. She’d just figured her experience was true to how the world worked.

Her father had always been frowning. The servants had never so much as cracked a smile, as it would have been unbefitting for servants of a famed and venerable house to be giggling like fools when there was work to be done. Thus, Sophelia had grown up in a home without laughter. She’d never heard her parents praise her efforts, nor had she ever held hands with anyone. She’d figured that was just how the world worked.

People who would grip their sides in laughter. Parents who would embrace their children or run their hands through their hair. She’d thought it was all the stuff of fairy tales. She didn’t mean that as a metaphor either; she had honestly believed it.

So imagine her surprise when they’d rolled through town in a carriage, venturing outside her manor for the very first time for a tea party.

What? Is this normal? Has House Lotus fallen? Shaken, the young Sophelia had turned to her mother beside her and softly tugged at her dress, only for her hand to be smacked away a moment later.

That moment was lodged firmly, immovable in Sophelia’s memory. Discomfort, shock, hesitation—her mother had looked at her with an expression that escaped description, as if all her pulpy blots of uneasiness had twisted and melted together into a goopy mess before finally separating.

Oh, I did something wrong.

It was the moment Sophelia had given up.

Her mother, her father, her whole house—they all saw her only as a sort of creature called “Sophelia.” They were nobles, so their only choice was to feed it, train it, and take it around with them. Was she a pet to them?

I’d rather be a pet! Woof! At least then they might like me and pat me on the head!

Whether Sophelia tried to recite a tricky poem from memory (that she didn’t even understand), or whether she tried to embroider their family crest (even if it didn’t look cool at all), it all ended the same: with her parents looking back at her as if to say, And?

Bleh.

So she would always put on that smile, cute and kind and nothing more, and giggle emptily before her father. She would watch her father who couldn’t quite seem to remember who she was, and her stepmother and half sister who would laugh as if they’d been the ladies of the house right from the start, as if they’d belonged to House Lotus ages before Sophelia ever had. She’d been impressed by just how clever they all were.

She’d made her peace with the fact that that was just how the world worked.

If Sophelia could have lived like them, not buried in overwhelming responsibility, she never would’ve had to find out that suffocation alone isn’t enough to kill someone.

But she digressed.

In other words, even His Highness the Prince, whose only response to seeing Sophelia was a “Hmmph,” had never even touched her.

And now there she was, in the embrace of a man—not to mention a dazzlingly handsome and strong man—mere moments away from exploding.

It was her first time touching another person, and it was overwhelming. She felt out of place, like she’d shown up nude to a party held by the royal family.

Oh, but the prince was already half naked, so she’d be fine, just fine.

“Are you okay? It’s just a little bit farther to the carriage.”

“I’m f-fine.” How on earth could she be fine? She wanted to scream and he just went and whispered into her ear with a voice like that.

What’s that? What am I going to do? Is this my last reward?

He was strong, and kind, and warm. Not to mention he smelled nice, and when she looked up at him, the stunningly handsome knight met her with a warm, caring smile.

Wow. Shouldn’t the kingdom be protecting a face this handsome? Just why on earth was this man a knight? It’d be a national tragedy if anything ever happened to that face!

But that made it all the more amazing that this absurdly attractive knight had said he’d run away with Sophelia.

“Run away with me.” That’s what he’d said.

He’d said that to Sophelia, looking at her with those blueberry candied eyes that were somehow sweet, and kind, and sad all at once, those eyes she wanted so badly that she could’ve screamed. But there was no way she could do what he’d said.

It wasn’t “I’ll let you flee” or a mere “Run away.”

He’d said, “Run away with me.”

It was the “with” in “with me.” The “with” that meant “together.”

Looking up at him from the tight confines of his embrace in surprise, Sophelia noticed his eyes were dreadfully beautiful. Livionis’s eyes were perfectly placed, clear, and stunning.

“Please, run away with me,” he said with those shapely lips of his.

He said it again!

You’re not hearing things after all! That was all it took to convince Sophelia. Duty? Responsibility? Why, Sophelia didn’t have the slightest idea what they were!

Why don’t you try having a guy with such a handsome face tell you that—and so earnestly—right when you’ve given up on wanting to cling to him?! Is there anyone who could say no? Nope, didn’t think so!

Sophelia nodded again, and once more after that. And that’s when Sophelia thought her heart might stop.

“I’m so glad,” Livionis said with a smile.

She’d heard rumors here and there about the “handsome-faced knight,” and now that handsome face seemed to melt before her as he smiled, cheeks painted with color. The gentle droop of his eyebrows, those lustrous eyes, those warm, pink cheeks, and the soft outline of his mouth...

Sophelia felt as if her eyes might catch fire. If this were the last thing I ever saw, I’d have no regrets, she thought.

Sophelia had lived her fifteen years of life as a gentlewoman, and now seeing a real smile—not a put-on smile for politics—for the first time left Sophelia wondering if this might be some misfortune instead. A flicker of unease about the rest of Sophelia’s life fell over her.

But now—now, in this very moment, she was shockingly happy.

Maybe “happy” wasn’t the right way to put it. It was spring—an everlasting spring.

This was it! This was the love she’d heard rumors of!

You must be thinking,“You smothered all of your emotions—what do you know about love and romance?!” But just hold on!

The knight with the amazing face had said he’d go with Sophelia. That was all he’d said.

But just look at that face of his! Look!

She liked him. She really liked him. There was no question about it—she loved him. What’s that? Was there even a question about whether or not I would fall for him? Was there even a chance? There sure wasn’t!

Which is all to say that Sophelia had never slacked off with her running or her training, and to be quite honest, she was more than capable of walking on her own. But Sophelia just couldn’t let this turn of events—the jackpot of a lifetime—slip through her fingers, so she chose not to tell him she could walk. There was simply no way she could say that. She’d never part from him for the rest of her life!

That’s what she thought...until they parted when they arrived at the carriage. Apparently Sophelia’s life was short.

And yet, Livionis sat down beside Sophelia in the carriage! Sophelia came back to life, rising from the ashes like a phoenix.

Livionis slammed the carriage door shut and stared at Sophelia, casting his kind gaze upon her.

Too much. It was too much to bear!

“Lady Sophelia.”

“Yars?” Oh. That wasn’t supposed to come out like that. Whether she was meeting with the king of another nation or presenting a budget proposal to His Majesty, Sophelia had always spoken smoothly without hesitation. Stumbling over her words was a new experience.

“You’re so cute.” Livionis smirked at Sophelia as her cheeks flushed red. “Too cute.”

That was her line.

That’s right, “cute”! You’re violently cute. What does “violently cute” even mean? Beats me. Sophelia’s fists ached, unconsciously clenched.

“Steady now,” Livionis said to himself. “We don’t have much time, so allow me to explain quickly.”

Eek! Don’t make such a tense face all of a sudden like that! I just might die! But Sophelia bit the inside of her cheek and nodded.

“Wow, it’s just like I’m dreaming!” Livionis continued. “No, no—that’s not it! Get a grip, Livionis!”

Sophelia didn’t quite understand what he was saying, but she was in complete agreement with every word of it, so Sophelia simply stared deep into Livionis’s eyes.

He was absolutely stunning.

No, no—that’s not it! Get a grip, Sophelia!

“Just to confirm,” Livionis said. “You screamed at that scene because you wanted to cancel your engagement. Is that correct?”

Sophelia blinked. Guess so.

“That’s precisely right,” she replied. “While stumbling upon them was truly a coincidence, seeing His Highness like that was enough for me to decide that I’d had enough. And what was more, when I took a closer look, it was my younger sister he was with!”

“While I may have been able to overlook it had it been someone else,” Sophelia continued, “my father would be all too happy to call things off if it benefited his beloved youngest daughter. Not to mention the royal family cannot cut ties with House Lotus, so it actually got the situation under control quite efficiently. To be quite honest, I was lucky.”

The only thing Sophelia’s father excelled at was his role as head of House Lotus. He wouldn’t be able to bear to have Sophelia’s precious little sister be subject to unsavory rumors, so he’d likely concoct a love story for her and the prince and have her take Sophelia’s place as his betrothed, no matter the cost...and Sophelia would be all for it.

Livionis quietly considered this. “You’ve taken too low an estimate of yourself, m’lady. I can’t imagine His Majesty would so readily give you up.”

“I can certainly imagine it,” Sophelia replied. “His Highness is far from fond of me. The only reason I was betrothed to him is because I was the eldest of House Lotus.”

“Argh... Very well... There’s so much infuriatingly wrong with the situation I may lose my senses, so let’s go with that. I certainly can’t have you changing your mind on me either.”

Once more, Sophelia had no idea what Livionis meant. “Change her mind”? Absurd. Who in their right mind would leave such a gorgeous knight to go back to that blind fool of a crown prince or her father who never even spoke to her? Not to mention becoming a laughingstock for having her fiancé stolen away was the last thing she wanted.

Sophelia laughed. “Now that I certainly can’t imagine! Even if I am all on my own, I am determined to flee from this country.” She couldn’t live as “that creature called Sophelia” anymore. Not after she’d discovered the joy of being human.

Looking up at Livionis, she saw his eyebrows were furrowed together in an expression of utter displeasure. “There’s no way I’m leaving you on your own, though.”

“Oh, okay.” Sophelia couldn’t bring herself to say any more than that. Her face was almost certainly a bright red. Oh, what do I even do? I’m just so happy! He said he’s not going to leave me on my own! Aaaaaaaah!

Sophelia felt like she could scream, so she clenched her teeth with a huff to hold it back.

Livionis didn’t notice. “So long as you understand,” he said with a satisfied grin.

Hee hee. And just what was that supposed to be? Aagh...! Livionis was so stunning Sophelia thought she might groan, biting the inside of her cheek again.

“Assuming I could take you away with no misgivings on your part,” Livionis began, “even then, there’s quite a difference between swapping sisters for the prince’s betrothed and the royal family allowing you to escape with everything you know, wouldn’t you say? We’ll have to ensure no one comes after us...”

Sophelia and Livionis laughed, like two children plotting some act of mischief.

Casting Livionis an upward glance, Sophelia sat with her elbow resting on her crossed leg, only to be met with a smirk.

And what’s that supposed to be? He was absurdly handsome and just as charming.

“Die with me,” he said simply.

“Oh, okay.” Hmm? What was that? Livionis was just far too cute for Sophelia to bother asking.

Her brain was a proper mess. This is love!

Even though Sophelia still had her head in the clouds, hearing Livionis’s plans for their next steps drained the color from her face.

“That’s absurd!” Sophelia shouted.

Livionis, however, was nonchalant, speaking as if it were no matter at all. “That’s what it takes to run away with the crown prince’s fiancée.”

It was as if cold water had been poured over her still woozy head. Even the blank stare that Livionis cast her way was adorable. No, this is no time for that!

Sophelia regained her senses all at once. She knew full well that she carried no value, but her position in the kingdom was one of a kind. Running away on her own and “being taken away” were indeed two different matters.

Initially, Sophelia had thought that she couldn’t bring Livionis into this, but that was just a vague idea she hadn’t thought through. She was thoroughly unimpressed by her own stupidity. What am I supposed to do? This isn’t what I planned!

Sophelia’s hands trembled at the fact that she’d taken Livionis’s hand without an ounce of thought.

Noticing that the carriage had stopped, Livionis opened the door.

Hold on, I have to tell him I can’t! I have to tell him we shouldn’t! I’ve got to stop him! If I speak up now, there’s still time! Sophelia made up her mind and looked up, only to see Livionis standing outside the carriage, extending his hand to her with a bright grin.

“Lady Sophelia,” Livionis said, “even if you were to take your leave of me here, you would still run away, would you not? In that case, I’ll be in full pursuit no matter what it takes.”

The face looking back at her was far too attractive for her to have any say in the matter. The blood had drained from Sophelia’s face only moments ago, and now she felt it bursting up from inside her. Wait, let me actually think this through!

Sophelia tried desperately to put her thoughts in order, only for Livionis to continue with a happy, charming grin. “You’re the one who took my hand, m’lady.”

No, hold on! Wait just a minute!

“I said I wouldn’t leave you on your own, didn’t I? In that case, don’t you think it would be far more efficient to run away together?”

“Efficient.”

It wasn’t a matter of efficiency!

Calm and collected, Sophelia tried her best to argue her point, but when he tilted his head in curiosity at her response, his smooth black hair swayed in an alluring— No, that’s not it!

“I’m no good at giving up, Lady Sophelia. It’d be much more efficient if you gave up.”

No, that’s not the problem here! Sophelia thought, but Livionis was positively brimming with confidence, and that sparkling proud smile of his was just too ridiculously cute. Well, better to be more efficient than less, right? After all, it’s just more efficient!

Sophelia had no idea what was happening. After all, the moment she cupped his outstretched hand between her gloves, she was met with a tight squeeze!

“Gotcha!”

Just what business did he have grinning so happily, huh?

Ha ha ha! Oh, this is bad. I’m done. Dead. I’m brain-dead.

Her thoughts? Shut down. Her functions? Shut down.

I can’t handle any more. I surrender. My brain’s set for an honorable burial after it died in the line of duty. Let’s leave an offering of blueberry candies at the graveside! May you rest in peace from your labors, dear brain.

“Hey!” a frustrated voice called, snapping Sophelia back to her senses. She’d had her hands pressed together, as if to offer up a prayer.

“Look, Mr. CEO, I know you’ve got your head in the clouds right now, but save it for later. We don’t have time, so hurry it up!”

“Bleh!” Livionis said, sticking out his tongue in play.

The knight who’d descended from the coachman’s seat and a robed man who’d appeared from somewhere both glared at Livionis.

“Cross me and die,” the robed man bit back.

Livionis snickered. Even the way he laughed was cute—so cute it hurt.

Sophelia tilted her head to the side and asked what this “CEO” stuff was about.

“It’s a sort of code,” Livionis answered, letting go of Sophelia’s hand. “Nothing to worry yourself over.”

From the side, a woman holding a large bag gave them a humble nod.

“This is Kannon, one of our servants,” Livionis explained. “She’s a tight-lipped lady. When I was a child, she always kept my mischief to herself, so our secret’s safe with her.”

“I knew your father and mother would find out eventually, so I just remained silent, that’s all,” Kannon replied.

“Really?”

Kannon joined them on the carriage and pulled a simple dress from the bag. With a smile on her face, she helped Sophelia change into it. The dress she’d worn to the party that evening was heavy, hard to move around in, and was eye-catching—it was no dress to run away in.

Despite her surprise at how deftly Livionis was handling matters, Sophelia changed into attire suitable for making her escape, before yanking out her blue gemstone earrings.

I should just throw these away! Sophelia thought to herself. Wait a second! These are worth money, aren’t they? Sophelia squeezed the blue gemstones tight. After all, the gems had done nothing wrong. She’d take them as her compensation for everything. The prince should have been thankful this was all she’d taken.

Here we go! Sophelia thought to herself, tearing the embellishments from her old dress. It was a dress made for evening parties, so the small stones and lace that decorated it were of superb quality.

Quietly pleased, Sophelia looked for a place she could store the embellishments. Kannon offered her a leather pouch, and Sophelia thanked her in return, only to be met by a bright, warm smile. “The young master’s got plenty of strong opinions with quite the temper to boot,” Kannon told her. “And that foul mouth of his—you’d hardly believe him to be of nobility! But even then, I haven’t the slightest doubt he’ll bring you happiness, m’lady. You can rest easy.”

It was a terrible explanation, but seeing Kannon’s bright, beaming smile, Sophelia couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m already happy.”

“Well now,” Kannon replied with a warm grin.

Do you have any idea how happy I am to have someone smile at me? No, you probably don’t. Sophelia fought back the urge to cry and descended from the carriage. She took the full leather pouch and placed it in the bag she’d received alongside the dress.

Outside the carriage, Livionis stood speaking with the other knight and the robed man with a map spread out before him. He’d kept the black pants of his uniform as they were but switched out the rest for a rough jacket and pair of boots. Draped over his shoulders was a dark blue robe. He’d let down his flowing bangs in a way that made him seem boyish and cute all at once.

“Very well then. I’ll return to the manor with Kannon,” one of the men said.

Livionis nodded. “Many thanks. Be careful on your way back.”

“And you as well, Sir Livionis...but then again, you’ve little need of such well wishes, do you?”

“I suppose. My father’s probably the only one who could ever hope to kill me.”

“Well? We’ll burn the carriage right around”—the man pointed to a spot on the map—“here, right? Still, I’m impressed you knew of a road like this. It’s pitch-black, nothing but trees, and there’s not a soul to be found. You could get up to whatever evil scheme you wanted to here.”

“Oh? Weren’t you aware?” Livionis asked back. “This is the road those thieves we caught a while back were using. It’s the one the captain spoke of—he mentioned felling trees to improve visibility.”

“And that’s here?”

“Young master,” Kannon called.

“Hmm?” Livionis turned around, smirking when he saw Sophelia. “You’re so cute.”

No, the cute one here is you, thank you very much! That’s what Sophelia wanted to say at least, but she found herself unable to speak.

Beside her, Kannon gave Livionis another leather pouch. Taking it in hand, Livionis furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Isn’t this a bit much?” he asked.

“It’s from your mother,” Kannon answered. “You know, she was laughing and saying she’d expect no less of a man of House Warrion.”

“Tell her I’d expect no less of the lady of House Warrion.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Sophelia watched Livionis, staring at his cheerful expression as he laughed.

“Excuse me, miss,” said the knight who’d been in the coachman’s seat.

Sophelia looked up at him.

“May I have a moment?” he asked in a nervous-sounding voice.

Why on earth would you get nervous in front of someone like me? Sophelia thought to herself before giving the knight a hearty nod.

“Livionis has told us of your tireless efforts for the knights, from improving the Knight Academy to making new plans to slay monsters, all while you upheld your public duties as the next crown princess,” the man explained. “On behalf of all knights both present and future, allow me to offer up our sincere thanks. We are utterly grateful!” He finished his praise with a bow.

There were plenty of thoughts that ran through Sophelia’s mind at this. Like...

My, what a wonderful bow!

Aren’t you speaking a bit too loudly?

Why do you know about all that?

But what caught her attention the most was the name that left her blinking in surprise. “Sir Livionis told you?”

“Indeed. He’s a fan of yours, m’lady. There are many knights who became fans of you thanks to his efforts. You can rest easy knowing you’ll have the full efforts of your fan club ensuring the success of your escape.”

Huh? Wait, what did you say? A f-fan club?!

Sophelia looked up in shock.

“By the way,” the knight went on, tilting his head.

Hold on, don’t just move on! Sophelia was still processing his first spiel.

“Why did you ever deem knights such as us worthy of your attention, m’lady?”

“Uh, well, you see...” Sophelia stammered. “When I was a child, a boy who encouraged me was training to become a knight.” As much as she wanted to tell the knight to slow down with his questions, she gave her honest answer as she recalled that day.

That day long ago...

Sophelia had attended her monthly tea party with the crown prince. Far from smiling at all in her presence, the prince had wrinkled his brow, complained to Sophelia to his heart’s content, and then trounced off somewhere.

Excuse me, I’m the one who really wants to run away here. Sophelia had a complaint or two—or three, or four—of her own to make, but to voice them before the crown prince would be unbecoming. Or, thinking about it positively, at the very least she’d been set free quickly. She decided to think about it like that.

Sophelia was terribly exhausted after she was left on her own, but she declined to be seen off by the knights and maids, instead opting to wander aimlessly through the garden.

It was simply too early to return from the tea party. While she was delighted it had ended earlier than planned, if she went straight home, she could already see that she’d have a scolding waiting from her father, demanding to know if she’d made His Highness angry again, even though she couldn’t recall doing anything of the sort.

Hiding herself in the garden’s hedge, Sophelia decided to waste some time and squatted down among the bushes.

Just then, the thought occurred to her:

If she stayed still just like this, no one would find her, would they? Whether she was hungry, or cold, or afraid, so long as she endured it all, wouldn’t someone just find her dead body in the morning?

At twelve years old, even Sophelia understood that you couldn’t die from just one night in the elements, but if one day wasn’t enough, then even if it took two or three days, she could just stay there and bear it.

It’d be nice if they didn’t find me... she wished to herself.

But, then again, that wasn’t the sort of thing you could wish into existence. After all, being born to House Lotus, Sophelia’d had her duties and responsibilities beaten into her by her mother.

She was to devote herself to her duties—to her house, to her father, to her country, and to her king.

That was the role—the only role—that had been given to the creature called Sophelia. Being struck was an inevitability, and if she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of a blow, her only option was to work harder. It was quite simple. She’d made her peace with it. There was nothing to mourn or be sad about. It was so easy she could do it all before breakfast. After all, she had to be a proper lady to eat breakfast in the first place.

There was a boy who’d gotten angry on Sophelia’s behalf.

He was a strange boy, with a swollen, bloody face, but he had worried about Sophelia.

“I’d...never talked with anyone like that until then...” Sophelia said to the other knight. “I think I was happy. I really hoped I could make that boy happy somehow, wherever he was.”

So the boy wouldn’t give up on becoming a knight.

So he wouldn’t be disappointed when he became a knight.

To keep their country from being the sort he’d be disappointed in.

“It was thanks to him that I was able to work hard,” Sophelia added with an unconscious laugh.

“Well now...” the other knight said, scratching his head. “Best not tell that to Livionis.”

“Huh?” Sophelia cocked her head in confusion. “I won’t. But why?”

“He seems like the jealous type, that one,” the knight answered. “Talking about your first love might be a land mine.”

“Hmm?”

While Sophelia was grateful for her shocking encounter with the boy back then, she couldn’t help but tilt her head to the side and wonder if it had really been her first love. After all, she’d only just now awakened to her first love. She didn’t just have her head in the clouds, she was walking on the clouds! She’d even made a grave for her brain!

It wasn’t that she didn’t even remember the boy’s face—it was just that the impact his bloody nose and swollen cheeks had left on her was too strong. It wasn’t fair to compare him and Livionis, the gods’ most brilliant masterpiece, the product of immeasurable practice, after whom they could rest on their laurels in molding humanity forever.

For now, Sophelia decided to nod.

Based on the fact that the knight nodded back to her, that was probably the correct answer. He seemed satisfied enough.

The knight called to Livionis, who was deep in conversation, and tossed a leather bag at him.

“Huh? Wh-What’s this?”

“It’s from the captain,” the knight answered. “Says it’s your salary for the month. I was also entrusted with messages for you. One was ‘This is what makes you a man of House Warrion,’ and the other was ‘Don’t worry, I intended to inherit the family estate right from the start.’”

“From my father and Arthur, right?” Livionis asked. “Tell them they’re just jealous.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to recreate that infuriating smirk of yours.”

Livionis guffawed as if he were truly enjoying himself. She admired that beautiful masterpiece of a face, touched with refinement and yet boyishly young at the same time. When he laughed, he seemed to be truly, undeniably happy. He opened his mouth wide in unbridled joy. He laughed happily.

Seeing his face painted with joy, Sophelia felt like she could start crying again. He was just too cute. He was so charming, so joyful.

He seemed happy.

And that was proof that Livionis was loved by those around him.

Each and every one of these people was supporting their dramatic escape as if it were the most natural thing. It was proof he’d been born to be loved and had lived as such in turn.

As he escorted Sophelia home, Livionis’s carriage would be assailed by thieves and burned to the ground. It would be unknown whether they’d survived.

It was such a tragic plan. And it might make this the last time...

It might make this the last time he’d ever see his beloved family and friends. The position he’d built for himself, his reputation, his hard work—Sophelia was snatching it all away from him.

Yet Livionis, the other knight, the robed man, the servant lady—they were all laughing.

“See you.”

“Yeah, catch you around.”

“Stay well.”

“We’ll see you again someday.”

It was as if he were just about to head off on a stroll. They wished him safe travels with bright and beaming spirits. Their smiles hid no regrets or sadness as they bid him a casual farewell.

Sophelia clenched her teeth.

Leaving behind the kindest place in all the world, Livionis looked at Sophelia and cracked a smile. His eyes shone like a star-filled night sky right before the dawn, making nothing of the darkness around them.

“Let us be on our way, Lady Sophelia.”

The tears escaped her. She couldn’t bear that smile. All those years she’d never once shed a tear, gone in an instant.

The tears cascaded down her cheeks, one after the other. Her chest ached. She felt like she might go crazy.

“Wh-What’s wrong?” Livionis asked. “You don’t want to go after all? Would you like to go back home?”

“No. No, I certainly wouldn’t!” Sophelia answered. “As long as I’m with you, I can go anywhere, anywhere at all!”

Seeing Livionis run over to her in a fluster, Sophelia made her best attempt at a smile. She wasn’t particularly beautiful—unlike her stepmother and half sister. Between all the tears and snot, she was sure her face was a mess by now. She was in such a sorry state she couldn’t bring herself to look in a mirror.

If only she were smarter. If only she were prettier. If only she were more, more, more. She’d worked so hard already, so couldn’t she have just tried a little bit more? If she gave up now, wouldn’t everything she’d endured till now be in vain? If she had been someone else, wouldn’t things be different now?

Deep, deep down, she had no end of regrets and lingering feelings, but Livionis’s smile was so filled with joy, none of that mattered.

I’d put everything I have on the line to make him happy. Sophelia made a vow—a vow on the love that had picked up the plea for help she’d never been able to voice.

It was the first night in her life she had laughed aloud.

And on that beautiful, starry night, Sophelia gave the first cry of her reborn life.

Chapter Four: They Say Seeing Is Believing, But...

It was a beautiful, still night.

Gu...! Sophelia swallowed the words, her green hair flowing in the breeze.

Gulp. She swallowed, right when it seemed they might get the better of her. There! Sophelia thought to herself. She’d lived as a proper lady for fifteen years. Hmmph!Just leave it to me! I’ll swallow as many words and emotions as I have to!

Sophelia had once even forced down cake smothered in chocolate sauce, even though it made her gag. “Oh, it’s quite delicious!” she’d said, but in truth it wasn’t even remotely delicious. Sophelia wasn’t very fond of sweets. But tea parties were nothing more than a mass procession of cakes, cookies, muffins, and all varieties of sweets. Even then, Sophelia had made it through each event with a smile.

So she’d be just fine now.

Sophelia squeezed the reins she’d been holding on to.

A soft voice called out from behind her. “Are you all right, m’lady?”

Oh, that voice of his! Yes, yes, why, of course I am! Even if I weren’t all right, I’ll make myself all right, thank you very much!

Sophelia nodded back. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Please tell me at once if you grow tired.” The worry-laced voice surrounded Sophelia, as if to apologize.

That wasn’t a figure of speech. Make no mistake about it—the voice surrounded her physically.

Thin as she was, Sophelia’s body completely sank into the knight’s sturdy frame.

The horse cantered along the road that was rough and wild and overgrown with trees. No, “cantered” isn’t the right word, is it? It’s more like a gallop. We’re going so fast, after all! They were galloping—dashing along.

None other than Livionis Warrion directed the steed. Known as the handsome knight, Livionis had charmed the hearts of both young and old.

Sophelia had leaped out of her days mired in resignation, led away by that handsome face that made her wonder if he was an angel or a fairy. Livionis had taken Sophelia by the hand and placed her atop a horse with a brilliant black coat. A horse. That’s right—a horse. It was a new experience for Sophelia, having grown up with a massive list of things she mustn’t do.

After swooping Sophelia up with a bright grin and placing her atop the horse, Livionis had nimbly leaped on the horse to sit behind her.

My, he’s quick! And close. Very close. Try not to think about it...

Grunting with effort, Sophelia had managed to straddle the horse. If she were to sit on the horse like a proper lady with both legs together, it seemed like it would only make it harder for the horse to gallop along. Sophelia knew nothing of horses, but she racked her brain for ideas nonetheless.

The horse was remarkably tame; according to Livionis, it had grown up alongside him at his family manor. Even with Sophelia squirming and fidgeting with unfamiliarity, the horse simply waited patiently for her. It was a fine horse.

And that’s when Sophelia realized:

This is...terrifying!

We’re so high up! This is scary! Aaaggghh...! I’m scared of heights, aren’t I? After fifteen years of life, Sophelia had made a new discovery about herself: She was scared of heights. Good to know, I suppose. The world was brimming with things Sophelia didn’t know.

Hee hee! All she could do was laugh.

Having gone about her days quietly playing her part, Sophelia had never even had the chance to experience much.

Guess that means I’ve got... Oh, what was it called? “Acrophobia.” Probably. I never knew! I mean, it’s scary when your feet aren’t on the ground! I’m floating—floating—off the ground! Sophelia thought to herself. What’s that? I’m not actually floating? I’m just riding on a horse? Listen, you lunk, I’m saying my feet aren’t on the ground so it’s like I’m floating! That’s some logic you’ve got there!

Come to think of it, when you’re on a horse, is it normal for it to look like you’re so far off the ground?

No, it’s just because it’s your first time, Sophelia told herself. That has to be it. You’ll get used to it—you’re fine. See? Look, it’s night. You can’t see any of the scenery. That’s right. Sophelia would just convince herself! This is the ground. You’re not up high. The reason you feel like you’re swaying a bit is— That’s right! Just your imagination! That feeling like the trees are just dashing away behind you? It’s just your imagination! Sophelia desperately tried to convince herself that that was all it was.

But it didn’t work. She was scared! It was scary! Of course it was.

Sophelia had never dabbled in hypnotism or the powers of suggestion, so her efforts to convince herself otherwise might as well have been on the same level as a toddler that made a noise when it saw a newspaper. “Would you look at that! She’s reading!” If that was all it took to read, then there’d be no need for teachers or classes or school. If Sophelia could bid adieu to her fear of heights just like that, she’d become a professional hypnotist then and there!

Eureka! I’ll show you the ultimate soldier, free of all fears! Wealth to the nation! A mighty military! You’re against war? Grow a spine!

Wow, Sophelia thought in surprise. Fear really is something, huh? It wasn’t about logic. It was violence—pure and simple violence.

I can’t help but feel scared, so I guess it’s like love in that way! Ha ha!

However, try as she might, Sophelia couldn’t actually laugh.

It was no laughing matter.

Sophelia couldn’t muster so much as the tiniest chuckle. Not to mention she felt bad, like she’d had too much to drink. She was horse-sick, if that was even a word. She found herself clenching the reins in her hands even tighter.

Cupping Sophelia’s hands in his own, Livionis gently rubbed them. The black leather of his gloves was soft to the touch. “Lady Sophelia, are you certain you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.”

He really does have a nice voice, thought Sophelia. I’m scared, and I feel sick, and if I’m being honest and I had to say one way or the other, I’m not all right. But still, that voice of his is nice. And it’s just so warm too!

Standing around three heads taller than Sophelia, Livionis’s large frame was warm and unflinching. He smelled nice. Even though they were traveling with considerable speed, he felt as stable as a rock. Had it not been for the swaying while they were riding, Sophelia wouldn’t have even felt sick.

I wish I’d at least tried riding a horse before, Sophelia thought to herself, before she remembered that back at the manor, neither her mother nor her father would’ve ever permitted such a thing.

“I want to ride a horse!”

“Okay!”

If they’d been parents like that, Sophelia would still be tucked away in her bed, gently sleeping away.

“Ahh...” Sophelia sighed. She wished she could be free of this queasiness somehow.

For the record, closing her eyes was also a no-go. When she tried that, the swaying and floating sensation only got worse. It instantly made her feel even more terrified—and nauseous. She’d really messed up this time.

That’s odd. No—actually, it’s funny. No, it’s not funny. It’s not funny in the slightest!

The heroes in the stories Sophelia had read would fly through the skies and climb the highest peaks only to rejoice, “Oh, how wonderful!”

If they rode on a horse, they’d proclaim, “I’m one with the wind!”

“I’m counting on you, Mr. Horse!” they’d say and make the greatest of friends with their steed.

That’s why, when Sophelia had heard they’d be taking a horse, she’d gotten just the slightest bit excited.

This isn’t what I signed up for! Sophelia thought.

This wasn’t some expertly crafted, meticulously plotted epic written by a knowledgeable prodigy of an author—this was Sophelia’s life. This was reality. Of course it was different.

“Wonderful” was the last word Sophelia would use to describe heights. She’d have loved to be one with the wind if that were possible. Their horse was a fine steed, but she was too busy trying to stay in the saddle to tell the beast she was counting on it. All she could do was offer an apology for all the heavy baggage and tell it she’d try her best not to get it dirty.

“Aaahhh...” Sophelia took a long, slow, quiet sigh. This isn’t good... I feel like I could throw up. Sophelia squeezed her hands around the reins that had now become her lifeline. She clenched the reins, desperately trying to think of something, anything else.

Suddenly, the horse began to slow. Then, with a firm hoof to the ground, it finally came to a halt.

Thinking it odd, Sophelia turned around, only to find Livionis’s pristine face far closer than she expected. Even in the dark, she could see his cheeks were faintly tinted with color. He’s so cute.

“Lady Sophelia.”

“Y-Yes...?” Sophelia forced herself to speak. She was lucky words were all that came out of her mouth.

“While I hoped to distance ourselves from the capital as soon as possible,” Livionis began, “I hurried our pace in hopes of avoiding the need to make you sleep outdoors...but I failed to discuss the matter with you, didn’t I?”

Sophelia blinked in surprise as his eyebrows fell in a remorseful droop.

Discuss it? It was Sophelia’s first time traveling and both her wisdom and experience paled in comparison to his. Yet this knight in shining armor was going to discuss it with her. Discuss what, exactly?

“Which would you prefer, m’lady?” Livionis asked. “To spend a night camping on the road? Or to travel through the night and reach town in the morning?”

For just a moment, Sophelia forgot all about the fear and nausea out of sheer astonishment. “What?”

What? What was that he’d just said?

“Uh, ummm...”

“Neither you nor I are on our own,” Livionis clarified. “We’re here together, so it’s inappropriate for me to just go about making decisions like that. My apologies...”

Huh...?

Wait, what? Huh??? Sophelia was more than confused—she was in shock. Why, she’d be less surprised if His Royal Scumbag suddenly became the image of nobility. Oh, you finally gained an ounce of self-awareness? How about that.

And now? Now, this handsome-faced knight, born of a famed house and bearing the expectations of the royal knights, the pinnacle of the kingdom—what had he said? He’d said he would discuss it—with Sophelia.

Everyone Sophelia knew had done nothing but try her, mock her, scorn her, or ignore her, even though every suggestion she made took a tremendous amount of research and explanation.

Sophelia sat on that horse empty-handed and floating along. And he wanted to discuss things with her!

To discuss... What did that mean again? Sophelia flipped through her mental dictionary. It meant he wanted to hear her opinion, right? That was it, wasn’t it?

“Well, uh...” Sophelia began nervously. “As embarrassing as it is to say, I’ve hardly ever been outside the manor or the castle... I don’t know enough to...to actually give an opinion on it...”

Livionis smiled watching Sophelia stumble over her reply. He’s amazing...

“There’s no rule saying you can’t state your preferences just because you don’t have enough knowledge or experience. This isn’t your job, or your responsibility, or even your duty. I simply want to learn more about you.” With that, he laughed, blushing.

What a charming notion! He wants to learn about me. That’s what he said—he wants to learn about me! All with that adorable face of his! Still struggling to stave off her disbelief, Sophelia blinked.

This wasn’t her duty.

Sophelia followed Livionis’s train of thought in her mind.

“Would you mind telling me what you’re thinking now?” Livionis asked.

“That’s—” Would it really be okay for her to say something so abstract? Was it really okay for her to say something so vague and irresponsible and brazen even when she had no logic or basis or definitive proof to show for it?

After all, Livionis had been kind enough to ask, but regardless of any official duties she may have had, Sophelia was both a novice and a woman. Were she to be left out here on her own, she’d just be idle baggage.

The optimal answer would have been something like “It’s nothing to fret over. We should make our way to the town as quickly as we can. After all, the forest is dangerous at night.”

That’s right. That was the only answer. Sophelia had never been on a journey her whole life, but she knew they had to rid themselves of any pursuers.

Just when Sophelia had made up her mind and opened her mouth to speak, Livionis turned a beaming smile her way.

Oh, wow...what a wonderful smile. Whoa, that’s really something. Wait, is he shining? I mean, just look at him—he’s beaming! Practically sparkling. He looks like he’s just bursting with anticipation waiting for me to speak!

She certainly wouldn’t lie. But she had to give the optimal answer—the right answer. But just what was the right answer here? Sophelia racked her brain, thinking and then thinking some more. She thought and thought and thought until—fzzzt—her little brain short-circuited.

“Ngh.”

“‘Ngh’?” Livionis repeated.

“Waaaaaaaaaagh!” Sophelia sobbed.

“Waaaaaaaaaagh”? And just where on earth did that come from? Sophelia thought to herself. It was so funny it seemed like a joke. But there was nothing funny about her tears.

Sophelia continued sobbing away, squashing the deflated knight right when he seemed to swell in anticipation of Sophelia’s words. She’d landed one hell of a counterpunch. Had they been in a boxing ring, it would’ve been the moment the bell rang. If it had been an argument, it would’ve been right when the last, biting words were spoken. But unfortunately, they were currently fleeing through a forest in the middle of the night all in the name of love. Neither of them had any intention to argue in the slightest.

Wow, guess real life isn’t like the stories, Sophelia thought to herself. Nothing goes the way you expect.

Chapter Five: Warm and Hot

The wood burst open with a snap.

The campfire before her was as warm a sight as it was warm to be near. Watching the flames, Sophelia felt a sense of calm wash over her. One of the few things she’d enjoyed back home was watching the flames in the fireplace dance and sway. But a campfire’s even better, Sophelia thought, narrowing her gaze and sniffing.

Livionis quietly sat on the opposite side, with his eyes focused on the campfire. With his black gloves removed, Livionis’s hands were almost shockingly pale and beautiful. His long, heavy eyelashes cast prominent swaying shadows across his face. Staring into the fire in silence, he looked like a spirit of sorts.

And not long ago, it was in front of that same distressingly beautiful man that Sophelia had committed an act so disgraceful that she hoped to never recall it for the rest of her days: She’d bawled and wailed and sobbed.

It hardly seemed real. She wished it weren’t, but it was. It was cold, hard reality. If there’d been a tournament for the best impression of a crying child, she would’ve walked away with the gold.

Watching Sophelia sob, Livionis had been beside himself, stumbling over his words. “Wh-What, wh-whatever’s the matter?”

“I don’t feel good! And I’m scared of heeeights!” Sophelia had exclaimed as it all flooded out.

No, I mean my answer floodedout, not that! I didn’t actually throw up! I meant I finally came clean to him! Sorry if you were eating!

That aside...

One knockout punch from Livionis’s overwhelming beauty was all it took to send all the confidence Sophelia had in her ability to endure hardships flying off into the distance...and it didn’t seem likely to return.

Aside from her infancy when she couldn’t eat or move on her own, as far back as she could remember, Sophelia had never cried in front of anyone, but now, before this knight, her tear ducts were woefully inflated and overflowed. She’d been splashing around in enough tears that she could practically declare them a famous well that never ran dry. I’ll just keep the water flowing!

“We never had a drainage pump or anything like that until yesterday, did we?” Sophelia wanted to ask the person in charge, but the person in charge was Sophelia herself, so all she could say back to herself was “I don’t remember.”

Sophelia stared at Livionis, hoping he might forget the shameful display he’d witnessed.

“If...I may?” Sophelia began.

“Yes?” Livionis replied, lifting his head.

Wow.

Livionis’s face was even more stunning when illuminated by the campfire’s flames. Those purple eyes had dashed into first place in Sophelia’s list of things she liked by a wide margin, and now they were glittering before her. They gave off a warm, orangish glow in the fire’s light.

Sophelia stared at him blankly, watching him blink with those radiant, dazzling eyes of his. Livionis cocked his head in curiosity, only for his black hair to sway alongside it.

“What is it?” Livionis asked.

“Oh, no, uh, it’s...” Sophelia stammered. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that she’d been hopelessly lost in his beauty. She clenched her fist and focused. “About earlier, I...”

“All better now?” Livionis asked when she trailed off.

“Huh?”

“The nausea.”

“Oh, uh... Yes, it’s fine now.”

“I’m glad.”

So that’s what he was asking about. Sophelia nodded. While the unpleasant swaying sensation had lingered for a bit after she’d dismounted, it had largely subsided now. Thankfully, the tears that had cascaded down her face had subsided as well.

What a relief.

Livionis looked back at her inquisitively, his eyes narrowed in a caring yet breathtaking gaze.

Sophelia dropped her head and replied in a voice so small it could’ve very well belonged to a mosquito. “I’m truly sorry for all the trouble...”

“Far from it!” Livionis replied. “I’m the one who should be apologizing for failing to notice.”

“You’ve no need to apologize! I’m far too frail...and, uh...”

“Hmm?”

Was he going to make her say it?

Sophelia wanted to bury her head in her hands, but she lifted her head in a stroke of resolve, only for Livionis to look back at her with a puzzled expression like a stumped child. He was so cute she could almost cry again.

“W-Wailing on like that before, it was...” Sophelia stuttered.

“Oh.”

“Oh”? “Oh”?! And just what are you oh-ing? Sophelia felt herself tense up in surprise, only for Livionis’s gaze to narrow as his cheeks filled with color.

“You were adorable.”

“Huh?”

What gives you the right to be this ridiculously cute?! That soft, squishy smile of his was far too charming. He could buy a whole nation with one smile, but Sophelia had no nation to offer him. Maybe I should just steal one, she thought to herself. But that was just silly. More importantly...

He’d called her cute. Where? What was cute? And why?

Big words coming from King Cute himself!

It was all too much—so much that Sophelia couldn’t help but freeze up.

Livionis seemed to think better of his reply. “No, that was thoughtless of me, wasn’t it? You were suffering to the point of tears, after all. I’m terribly sorry.”

“Uh, no, that’s not it...” Sophelia replied. “It’s just, I’m a bit...off at the moment, so I’d be ever so grateful if you could forget all about that.”

Sophelia wished to never have to remember it again, but Livionis simply laughed. “Even coming from you, Lady Sophelia, there are some requests I can grant and some I cannot.”

“And...that’s one you cannot grant?” Sophelia asked.

“Of course not. It’s a day to remember,” Livionis answered. “The day you were vulnerable enough to cry in front of me.”

He’d gone and made a holiday out of it.

It wasn’t as if he were mocking her or teasing her—almost certainly not. The proof was in that charming face of his. If that face could ever spout out nastiness, then there was nothing left in the world for Sophelia to believe in.

But that was all quite all right. Even if she were being mocked or teased, it didn’t matter in the slightest so long as it was Livionis doing it. After all, that just meant another chance for her to look at that radiant face of his.

Sophelia knew that people might label her reaction as resignation or petulant indifference, but Livionis had neither mocked nor teased her, nor did he seem to have any plans to deceive her or betray her trust, so she was just fine.

I’ll choose the happy life. And yes, that’s my final answer. After all, if Livionis were to burst into tears in front of her, Sophelia was certain she wouldn’t be able to stand it either. She’d likely make a holiday out of it as well. Sophelia felt almost embarrassed bringing herself and her pale face up in the same thought as Livionis, with his positively destructive good looks and the strength that made him one of a kind. She almost wondered if he was in his right mind. Had he even looked in a mirror to realize how absolutely charming he was?

“Will I...be able to see you cry as well someday, Sir Livionis?”

“Me?” he replied, crossing his arms and looking up to the sky. “Well...probably not. If I were to ever cry...”

“If you were to cry?”

Livionis chuckled. “It’d only be because you’d thrown me away.”

Sophelia gasped in surprise. Smiling as he was, the look on his face said it all: A woman who’s turned her back on me will never see me cry.

Well, that was hardly fair!

Sophelia felt the urge to shout back for some reason, jutting out her chin. “Well, if that’s the case, then I’m certain to never see you cry. After all...”

After all...

After all, she’d, well, you know...

Closing her mouth with a grunt, before opening it to speak again, Sophelia finally cast her gaze to the ground. “After all...I could never let you go...”

Sophelia heard what sounded like a snap, but she couldn’t lift her head.

“L-Lady Sophelia, please! I beg of you—please let me see your face!”

“N-N-No!” Sophelia stammered back. “Y-You can’t!”

Even coming from Livionis, there were some requests she could grant and some she could not.

Isn’t that right? Mwa ha ha ha!

Sophelia didn’t want Livionis to see the sort of face she was making, but Sophelia wanted to see the look on Livionis’s face as he tried to get her to raise her own. She was certain he was making a positively adorable expression. Looking up was the last thing Sophelia wanted to do, but she just had to see his face!

Sophelia’s complete deadlock with herself came to a sudden halt, however, when one of the logs in the fire burst open with a particularly loud pop.

Sophelia had no way of knowing if that was the campfire’s way of angrily saying, Nuff of that, ya damn lovebirds! but Livionis stood up from where he’d been sitting with a sheepish cough that was almost certainly intentional, only for Sophelia to hurriedly look up at his face.

Livionis took out two blankets from the bags he’d laid on the ground and handed them both to Sophelia.

Freed from all the bags that had been fastened to it earlier, the black horse was calmly chewing away at some grass nearby with a wide-open mouth. According to Livionis, the horse was as docile as it was smart, and strong enough to remain unflinching even when faced with monsters.

Impressed by what a fine horse it was, Sophelia asked Livionis its name.

“It’s Matcha,” he answered with a laugh.

“‘Matcha’?”

“That’s right,” Livionis said. “They say it’s a type of green tea from a nation far to the east. I learned about it in a book I liked at the time.”

“But...Mr. Matcha has a black coat, right?” Sophelia asked.

“Uh, yes?” Livionis replied.

Oh, it was nothing to worry about. It was cute, so what did it matter? Sophelia decided to stop thinking further.

As long as Matcha himself—horself?—was fine with it, that was all that mattered.

Sophelia was practically a clueless bumpkin out in the larger world, so it would have been far too tactless of her to try and chime in on the life Livionis had led up to this point. However, she did quietly decide that moving forward, whenever they named a pet or such, they’d just be a little more cautious. That was all.

Taking the blankets—that Matcha had carried all that way—from Livionis, Sophelia tilted her head to the side.

“Best to get some rest soon,” Livionis said. “If you put one of them beneath you, that should make it just a tad more comfortable. It’s easier if you cast the edge of the blanket over the bag and use it for a pillow.”

“Umm...” Sophelia began, watching as Livionis showed off his travel wisdom and spread out the sprawling blanket. “What about yours, Sir Livionis?”

“I’m quite all right,” Livionis answered. “I won’t be sleeping tonight.”

“What?”

Ah, that’s right. The two of them couldn’t afford to just carelessly doze off in the middle of the woods. One of them would have to stay awake and tend to the fire.

Sophelia burst to her feet in a fluster. “No, I can’t ask you to take on all that yourself, Sir Livionis!”

“I’ll be fine. I won’t be on my own. Matcha’s here too.”

Matcha neighed in reply, as if to chivalrously declare, Leave it to me!

That wasn’t the point.

“But you and Mr. Matcha both need rest, do you not? You’re sure to be weary from such a long journey. At the very least, take your rest first.”

Sophelia wasn’t so ignorant of the world as to think that she could handle anything and everything on her own.

But.

“As helpless as I might look, I can use defensive magic!” Sophelia said, gripping the blanket. “I can buy time at the very least.”

A grin broke across Livionis’s face. “You truly are kind, Lady Sophelia.”

Matcha neighed back.

“K-Kind?” Sophelia stuttered.

If that were all it took to be considered kind, then everyone would be kind, and the world would be a peaceful place. In Sophelia’s opinion, “kind” was the sort of word that was reserved for describing Livionis.

“I’ll be quite all right,” he reassured her. “We’ll arrive in town tomorrow. And besides, I can go over a month without any rest or sleep.” That smile of his was as charming as ever. Livionis didn’t just have looks on his side—he could crack jokes as well. That sort of combination was bound to make him popular.

“A month? You’re trying to make me feel better about this, aren’t you?” Sophelia said.

“What?”

“Huh...?”

What? Hmm?

“Well...I might’ve stretched the truth just a tad there,” Livionis admitted.

“A-Ah.”

“Were I to go without food or water, I wouldn’t even make it three weeks.”

“What?” Sophelia asked.

“What?” Livionis echoed.

That perplexed look on his face was adorable. Wait, how many times today have I thought that? Staring back at Livionis, who seemed to have no idea at all what was so funny, Sophelia finally realized that he apparently hadn’t been lying.

“The Warrion family’s always been a bit hardier than most, it seems,” Livionis explained. “It was customary to try and survive without food, water, rest, or sleep during extended breaks. All of our servants can hold their own in a fight and ride on horses, so it was perfect for practicing battles where you find yourself outnumbered.”

Livionis paused for a moment, thinking back. “But if my father caught you, you were out of the game then and there. And you want to know what made it so unfair? He couldn’t chase you around the whole time since he had work to do, so he’d just appear out of nowhere every now and again. The fact that he managed to catch me no matter how hard I tried really stung, that’s for sure.”

“A bit hardier”? I must see that for myself. That’d make you the ultimate creature! Part of Sophelia wanted to just laugh it off, but looking at Livionis’s expression as he clenched his fist, she could tell that he was being serious. He’d meant every word of it.

“So really, it’s nothing to worry about!” Livionis continued. “Don’t worry about me. Please, get some rest.”

Matcha neighed in reply.

Livionis glanced at his horse. “Oh yeah, Matcha says he went through survival training with me, so he’ll be just fine.”

She finally understood.

It had taken her long enough, but now she finally understood: House Warrion had produced generation after generation of knights that struck fear into other nations. Sophelia couldn’t help but feel a bit fearful herself. Not of Livionis, of course. Not of stealing away this superhuman knight from the kingdom, nor of stealing the knight’s kingdom from him.

Just who were the Warrions? All those legends about how the first of the Warrions had cleaved through mountains or how dragon blood ran through their veins might have had some credibility after all.

Sensing a bit of distance as Livionis happily played with Matcha, Sophelia relented and squeezed the blanket in her arms.

But all their servants can fight? And their horses do survival training alongside them? There’s nothing normal about them!

In every age, it seemed there had always been those who were skeptical of the warm treatment enjoyed by the Warrions, but it was no surprise that each and every one of those skeptics had been unceremoniously silenced. After all, who could ever hope to win against such a family?

“I’ll...avail myself of your kindness and rest, then,” Sophelia declared.

Matcha neighed again.

“He says, ‘Avail to your heart’s content,’” Livionis translated.

Matcha certainly was a chivalrous steed, wasn’t he?

Sophelia gave them her thanks and lay down with a smile on her face, only to see Livionis himself smiling back contentedly. He was far too adorable.

“Sir Livionis, can you speak Animal-ese?” Sophelia asked curiously.

“Animal-ese?” Livionis repeated. “They say magicians and witches can, but certainly not I. All I understand is what Matcha’s trying to say. We’ve been together as long as I can remember, after all. It’s more of a hunch than anything, though.”

Matcha neighed in reply.

“Looks like you’re spot-on.”

Livionis beamed as he stroked Matcha’s mane, while Matcha nuzzled his nose up against Livionis’s shoulder.

It was like something out of a fairy tale—the dashing knight and his steed. He looked as if he might’ve stepped straight out of a dream. Just when had Sophelia fallen asleep?

Now there’s a silly thought, Sophelia thought to herself with a laugh.

But what if?

What if this actually were a dream?

What would she do if this were all a dream that would just vanish when she awoke?

“Lady Sophelia?”

How could Sophelia ever ignore that sweet voice that had called her name? How could Sophelia ever go back to her day-to-day life as if nothing had ever happened at all?

She couldn’t. There was no way she could.

Sophelia had already discovered how freeing it felt to talk and cry and smile and have someone smile back at you. She’d found out about the fire that came along with finding someone you liked, someone you found wholly adorable. If this were all a dream she’d just wake up from, Sophelia wouldn’t be able to go on living. Even without putting the theory to the test, Sophelia knew full well that it was far harder to endure the loss of happiness than to never know it in the first place.

“It’s just like I’m dreaming...” Sophelia said as a tear stole across her face again. Sophelia wasn’t happy about it, but her vision was blurring. “I just thought... What would I do if I woke up and I was back there, engaged to the prince again?”

“I’d come and snatch you away,” Livionis answered.

“Huh?”

Sophelia blinked, eyes wide. The tears in her eyes fell away, leaving her vision clear.

Livionis was kneeling before her, softly stroking her cheek as he wiped away the tears. Even in her dreams, she’d never seen anything like those breathtaking, kind eyes staring up at her.

“I can’t let go of you now either,” Livionis continued, gently stroking Sophelia’s head. “If this were all a dream, then I’d just come and snatch you away again. You’ve nothing to fear.”

The palm of his hand was large, rough, and hard, yet his stroke was careful and deliberate.

“I won’t let anyone else have you.” His voice was as sweet as dripping honey, yet stinging hot at the same time, with the slightest hint of bitterness. Sophelia wasn’t a fan of sweet things, but there was something about the voice that made her want to drink in even more of it, even if it would leave her with heartburn.

Sophelia’s heart let out a shrill cry at this voice that tasted of love. She yearned for more of this pain, but Livionis was exuding far too much warmth as he stroked her head nonchalantly. Her eyelids soon grew heavy.

“This is the first time anyone’s ever stroked the top of my head...”

“Urgh!”

“‘Urgh’?” Sophelia repeated.

“P-Pardon me,” Livionis stammered. “I’m just fighting back the urge to scream, that’s all. Pay me no mind.”

Scream? Why? It hadn’t even been a day since they’d met, but Livionis occasionally said things that Sophelia didn’t understand.

Oh, okay. Sophelia didn’t really understand, but she closed her eyes regardless. Okay.

If Livionis said it, it was probably true.

He said he’d snatch me away. Said he’d take me with him. Said I didn’t have to worry.

If Livionis said it, then it had to be true.

He said he wouldn’t let anyone else have me.

He might as well have been the hero from some fairy tale. Sophelia was unloved and unliked, a good-for-nothing failure who’d finally cast aside her responsibilities, but Livionis treated her like a princess. It was tremendously kind of him and yet tremendously sad at the same time.

“Heh heh.” Sophelia laughed.

“...gh!”

Sophelia could’ve sworn she heard Livionis moan, but the way his hand stroked her head felt nicer, more calming than anything she’d ever felt before.

Sophelia melted away into unconsciousness.

Chapter Six: Men of the Night

From the time he was born, Livionis had spent practically all his time training. His father had been so strict that Livionis had formed an alliance with his younger brother to drive their father to tears one day. His instructor had been merciless in the grueling training he subjected his students to, almost as if to declare that doing so was his divine calling. Needless to say, the same continued even after Livionis had joined the Knights.

The older students at the Academy had apparently tried to instruct Livionis on a variety of weapons and strategies during their breaks, but compared to his father’s insane regimen, training with the Knights was a picnic. After all, they had meals and breaks and tents, and there weren’t any surprise overnight attacks.

He’d been on edge at first, wondering if his father or instructor would make some savage appearance. But each and every night, it had remained quiet until morning. Whether that meant that training that hard could actually get in the way of their duties, or whether Livionis’s father, who’d apparently designed part of the Knight Academy training regimen, wasn’t quite right in the head, Matcha the horse didn’t really know.

Matcha was a horse, so he didn’t really understand complex things.

He didn’t understand it, but he knew that he’d been born to some high-and-mighty house, and that the humans hoped he’d work as hard as his exemplary parents. With that in mind, from the day the boy had given him the name “Matcha,” Matcha had accompanied the small human—always unbending and resolute no matter how hard he was beaten or thrashed—on all of his training or quests to slay monsters.

When it came right down to it, staying awake all night in the forest to tend the fire was nothing for Livionis or his partner Matcha.

Livionis let out a long sigh. “Hey, Matcha, don’t you think Lady Sophelia is just way too adorable?”

Matcha neighed back.

“What? C’mon, don’t say that!”

Matcha shook his head, as if to say, Are you still on that?!

The girl Livionis liked had been in some sort of difficult position, so from the sound of it, he couldn’t go around and declare his affection for her to just anyone. Indeed, Matcha was the only one to whom Livionis could voice his true feelings—the type of friend he could discuss those so-called “matters of the heart” with.

You’re telling me? A horse? But Matcha couldn’t go saying something like that.

Livionis knew this was a topic he couldn’t talk about with other people. But he wanted to talk about it. He had a dilemma on his hands. All Matcha could do was hear him out. Truly, their bond of friendship transcended species.

“The Lady Sophelia is right here, breathing! She looked at me and talked with me and permitted me to touch her, and now here she is, sleeping right in front of me! And—did you see that earlier? What was that?! To think she’d deem me worthy of such kind words...!”

“Oh, I wonder what she looked like as she said it!” Livionis went on. “It’s a shame I couldn’t see her face, but maybe it was for the best. She almost saw me melt in front of her...!”

Let her see it! Matcha thought, but since he felt a bond of friendship with Livionis that transcended species, he decided to hold his tongue. Get some dignity, dude! Matcha thought. But Matcha was a kind horse, so he remained silent.

And for what it was worth, Matcha didn’t understand what made a human attractive or not. He was a horse, after all. He didn’t understand, but he did like the way Sophelia had tried to be considerate of him even though she was scared of him—the way she’d call him “Mr. Matcha” with a slightly different pronunciation than Livionis. “Mr. Matcha.” That “mister” was a term of respect—that was nice.

Matcha was proud to be the steed carrying House Warrion’s eldest son. He would head off for duty with Livionis, only for his friends in the Knights’ stables to tell him “You’re one helluva horse, huh?” or “I heard you’ve got an amazing master!” He liked that a lot. Which was exactly why Matcha had been just a bit stunned when he found out that Sophelia was scared to ride on him, and to make matters worse, she’d even started to feel ill along the way.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Matcha,” the small girl had said woozily, her face drained of color. The girl’s apology had pierced Matcha’s self-esteem just a bit. Matcha was proud of his large build and his speed alike, so to think those same traits could harm this girl who mattered so much to his partner—

And speaking of that partner of his...

Livionis was dumbstruck with bliss, and now Matcha was the one who felt dumb.

It went without saying that was no act of consideration or such for Livionis. Any way you looked at it—from top to bottom, in all truth and reality, whether you turned things inside or out—Livionis was nothing more than a lovestruck fool.

“The way she said she felt like she was dreaming was just so cute! When you think about just how hard things must’ve been for her until now, it’s just... Well, what do you think, Matcha?” Livionis only briefly paused for Matcha’s response.

Hell if I know.

“Said she didn’t know what she’d do if she had to go back to being engaged to the prince! What do you think about it, huh? Just imagining it’s probably enough to make your blood boil and make you wanna murder that royal asshole the prince, huh?”

Matcha whinnied in reply.

I dunno about all that, but I do know yer better off keepin’ that to yourself.

Matcha cast an unamused glare back at Livionis, the hopelessly smitten barbarian who asked for Matcha’s thoughts even though he was really just talking to himself. Livionis’s lips curled into a bitter smile as if to say, Yeah, yeah, I hear you.

Most humans would make a mess of themselves if they ever saw Livionis make such an unbecoming expression, but it only irritated Matcha. Perhaps this was because he was a horse. Matcha wanted to ask Livionis’s father, or perhaps his brother, to see how they felt, but unfortunately, Livionis was the only one Matcha could converse with, so he had no way of knowing. What a shame.

“All I did was stroke her head a bit, and just look how she reacted! She’s just so absurdly cute! And it makes me so mad the way she was treated! Am I really going to be okay like this...?”

Matcha whinnied back.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Livionis said, cracking a smile. “I’m the one who feels like I’m dreaming! I still can’t believe it. But...” he trailed off, looking at Sophelia as she slept.

It seemed the day had been an eventful one.

Livionis and his father had told Matcha that they’d be on guard duty for a party that evening, so he could rest for the night as they’d be taking a carriage to attend to their duties. That night, however, a young butler had come to call for Matcha. He’d recognized the man as one of the humans who often spoke with Livionis.

No one besides Livionis could understand what Matcha said, but Matcha could understand human speech. I’m pretty smart after all! Ha ha!

So when the butler had asked Matcha to follow him quietly, he’d galloped through the night alongside the other horse, ridden by the butler and a woman he’d seen before somewhere. Even when they saddled him down with all of their bags, Matcha had stayed perfectly still. He was a smart horse, wasn’t he? He didn’t really understand all the details, but he could at least tell that some emergency had happened and that he was doing this for Livionis.

It was Livionis’s job to think through all those difficult details. All Matcha had to do was gallop as fast as he could when Livionis called. Nice and simple, right? But it seemed like quite a lot of work for Livionis and those other humans who did have to think about things.

“Lady Sophelia must still be quite shaken up from it all...” Livionis said. “I’d imagine she’s terribly tired. As much as she’s suffered, she’s been in tears the whole time.” He paused in thought. “Although I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”

With his shoulders slouched down, Livionis sat fixated, watching Sophelia. It looked as if he might be carefully observing her to ensure that he wouldn’t miss anything out of the ordinary. He also looked like a common pervert watching the girl he liked.

Matcha was a horse, so of course he knew nothing of human etiquette. But even as a horse, he would find it unsettling to be watched and watched like that. If it were Matcha, he might very well say, Get yer eyes offa me! and send the fool flying with a well-placed hoof.

So Matcha took it upon himself to poke Livionis in the back of the head with his snout in Sophelia’s stead.

“Ouch!”

Matcha neighed.

“Yeah, guess you’re right. Got carried away,” Livionis admitted with a sheepish grin.

While Matcha didn’t know if it was out of worry or an attempt to chide himself, it seemed Livionis had a tendency to agonize over his own behavior. But happiness appeared to win out, and Livionis had been laughing to himself ever since. He was a laughing, squishy pile of mush.

Would Sophelia really be okay with a guy like this?

Don’t blame me if she gets fed up with you before you know it! Matcha gave Livionis another snout blow to the back of the head.

My friend... Get yer act together!

“Ow!” Livionis groaned. “I got it, okay?”

Matcha snorted in reply. Guess we’ll see ’bout that. His partner was far too relaxed considering they were supposed to be “running away.” And just what are ya planning on doin’ if she up and leaves you for disappointin’ her? Then again, it seemed like Livionis was popular with a great number of other human females—and males as well—so perhaps there was nothing to worry about.

“You’re right... Gotta keep my head on straight.” Livionis looked to the sky. “It’s because of everyone else’s help that I’m able to be here with Lady Sophelia in the first place.”

Based on the conversations he’d heard the humans having, it sounded like they were going to say that they had no idea where Livionis and Sophelia were. The butler and the woman who’d departed from the manor alongside Matcha had returned back to the manor in secret just as they’d left. From the sound of it, the role of the knight whom Matcha recognized was to say he’d lost consciousness after they had been attacked by thieves. While he was taking on a role that was far from honorable, the knight had beamed happily regardless.

“And it’s thanks to you too, Matcha,” Livionis said out of nowhere.

Oh? Matcha stared back at his friend.

There were things Matcha didn’t dislike about Livionis, like how proud and forward he could be—that side of him.

They’d probably never be able to return to the manor. Matcha would never be able to see his own parents, or the stable keeper family who had always taken exceptional care of them.

But Livionis hadn’t apologized to Matcha. He’d thanked him.

The way he was so human and unlike other humans at once... Matcha didn’t dislike that either.

Matcha neighed in reply.

“You think I’m a pain in the ass? Some pal you are!”

Livionis gave a dumb, hearty laugh, that same old laugh he’d had ever since he was just a child. Matcha was fairly, actually quite, well...fond of it.

“Hey, by the way, Matcha, about Lady Sophelia back there...”

Matcha grumbled unhappily.

But this was a bit much. Any other steed would’ve told Livionis to can it and stop beating a dead horse before giving him a swift hoof to the back. But Matcha was a smart and gentle horse, so he didn’t. After all, he’d made up his mind a long time ago that he’d go through life with this pain in the ass of a friend.

Hey, what’s a horse to do? he thought to himself. But wait, is this going to go on till morning?

Together with Livionis, time and time again, Matcha had endured training so severe that he’d thought they’d actually died on occasion. At times, Livionis’s younger brother and his beloved steed Vall had fought to survive their training alongside them.

Whether it was survival with no sleep, no rest, no food, or no drink, even Matcha was confident that he could run his course through with both Livionis and Sophelia alike on his back. He’d dash his way over any cliff or forest and leap into a band of monsters without a speck of fear. After all, he could defeat low-level monsters on his own. Though he didn’t mean to make little of the knights, he was confident he was about as capable in combat as a knight. He wasn’t just any average horse. He was the steed of a man from House Warrion. He was proud—and he boasted the strength to back it up.

Livionis could doze the night away alongside Sophelia—Matcha could even watch the fire for them. He could add wood to the fire—not that he’d ever done that. He could probably do it, though. He’d always watched, after all.

But still.

Still.

“And just the look on her face then, you know?” Livionis gushed.

Matcha whinnied in disgust.

Do I actually have to put up with this till morning?

He’d never done training like this before. The question was just how much of it he could take.

Maybe I should just knock him out. I wanna try adding wood to the fire, Matcha thought, but he couldn’t muster the courage to kick his friend when he seemed so happy.

Matcha let out a deep sigh.

The horse didn’t realize that even he had a soft spot for Livionis.

It was early the next morning when Matcha, worn down and utterly exhausted, saw Livionis start to shake.

“Wait, no way! Lady Sophelia knew my name?! I haven’t told her my name!”

Matcha felt like crying.

Question: Can horses cry?

There was only one way to find out.

Chapter Seven: Morning, or the Continuation of Yesterday and the Start of Tomorrow

Morning came.

Sophelia had never been a fan of waking up in the morning. It’s already here, she’d think, feeling just a bit depressed. Depressed or not, she had to work. So she would solemnly call her servants, wash her face, change, and eat.

Since Sophelia’s father had forbidden her from eating with the rest of the family, Sophelia forced down her breakfast in silence with an expressionless servant beside her. It was an effort, but she’d just wind up hungry if she didn’t eat. If she ignored her basic needs, her health would suffer. So she had to eat.

Both the ingredients and the chefs that prepared them were first-class, but Sophelia wasn’t very fond of eating. Not to mention, she’d never once felt the joy others described in a delicious meal. To Sophelia, eating was simply a task she had to complete to stay alive.

So, once her work there was done, she had a tea party or training waiting for her.

None of that was fun either, but since she carried the title of the crown prince’s fiancée wherever she went, she had no choice. It was almost shocking how unbecoming her half sister’s old dresses looked on her, and even Sophelia knew full well that the other noble ladies who’d seen them laughed at her behind her back.

Did she want a new dress, then? Well, actually, not so much.

She figured that no dress would ever look good on her, so she simply shrugged off any concerns.

Sophelia had no way of knowing whether the queen or her training instructor had taken pity on her or if they were irritated by her startling lack of fashion sense, but either way, they would sometimes provide her a dress to wear at evening parties, so it never really became an issue...so Sophelia shrugged off those concerns as well.

Between her tea parties and training, she would provide assistance to the ministers and the civil officials or fulfill her public duties as the prince’s fiancée.

Some days she would eat lunch and some days she wouldn’t.

Sophelia wasn’t given a lady-in-waiting to assist her most of the time. It was only when they had to go to the castle and keep up appearances that one of Lilina’s ladies-in-waiting would be assigned to her for the day. There was no way to know what the lady-in-waiting had been told either. She was merely a decoration and never made any attempts to take care of Sophelia’s needs. Sophelia herself preferred to avoid having someone she wasn’t even close to glued to her side all day long, so she had no issue with each of them going their separate ways so long as they met back at the carriage to make their return.

So, if they had a tea party or a meal with someone important, Sophelia would eat, and if not, well, that wasn’t an issue either.

And so, night would fall. If she didn’t have an evening party to attend, she would eat in her room. Surrounded by books and documents she needed to attend to, she would always fall off into a sudden sleep. And when she slept, the next morning would come...

Only for it all to start again.

As utterly exhausting as it was to repeat the same thing day after seemingly endless day, it was her duty, so that was all there was to it. Sophelia was born to fill her role, and she’d been permitted to live to fill that role, so that was just how things were.

While Sophelia had accepted that this was simply the way of things, she hated going to sleep at night, and when she woke up in the morning, she felt despair. Her emotions were all over the place. She was a girl, after all. At least that was what she wanted to say.

But when it came right down to it, Sophelia was so busy that she felt she deserved praise just for breathing. She did enjoy her vocal training quite a bit, though. It was the one and only time she didn’t have to think about anything. Sometimes she would even run until she grew dizzy.

Sophelia also enjoyed her time in the carriage that took her back and forth from the manor to the castle. The inside of the carriage was covered in pillowy soft cushions, and the gentle rocking of the carriage always made her sleepy. Even then, she only ever dozed off, so she awoke immediately when the carriage arrived, never allowing herself to look unkempt before the knights. Why, if they ever saw her drooling in her sleep, the shame would have been almost too much to recover from.

Thinking back on it now, there were many in the Knights who’d been kind to Sophelia. While Sophelia could hardly wrap her head around the idea of someone around her showing her any sort of kindness, she was almost certain it wasn’t her imagination.

Just when Sophelia grew weary, the Knights would make sure to slow their pace as they walked alongside her. Sometimes as they walked, Sophelia would notice they’d made their way to the royal gardens with the flowers in full bloom. And sometimes, she’d even be lucky enough to make her return to the manor without encountering the prince. She was almost certain that that wasn’t just her imagination.

“Were the Knights looking out for me?” Sophelia had asked.

But there was actually just a bit more in the conversation that had led up to Sophelia’s question.

Sophelia awoke, startled, to the smell of soup.

Huh? I’m not drooling, am I? Sophelia thought, instantly bringing a hand to her cheek in a show of charm.

“Good morning!”

“G-Good morning!” she stammered back.

Livionis’s first smile of the day was especially blinding. The smile was overwhelming, leaving no room for doubt that yesterday had, in fact, been real.

“There’s a river nearby,” Livionis said. “Would you like to go wash your face there?”

That smile’s so bright! Sophelia thought, rubbing her eyes as Livionis beamed back at her. She contemplated the sheer joy of waking up to that smile and Livionis telling her “good morning.” It only took a moment for her whole boring life up until that point to stop mattering.

Sophelia nodded, filled with the baseless confidence that, in fact, her whole life up until now had been building to this very moment.

What did he say again? That’s right—a river.

“Would that be okay?” Sophelia asked.

“Of course.” Livionis rose to his feet with a grin, only for the black horse to neigh and give him a slow poke with his muzzle. “Sounds like Matcha’s going to accompany you.”

“Okay,” Sophelia replied.

Standing behind Livionis, Matcha shook his head as if to show the way.

Sophelia gave the horse a hurried nod in return. “Thanks, Mr. Matcha!”

“I’ll just be watching the soup, then,” Livionis said as he stirred the pot filled to the brim with ingredients. He was just as cute today as he had been yesterday.

After she and Matcha had walked a ways, Sophelia spoke up. “Uh, Mr. Matcha?”

Matcha trotted along, throwing his head back to look at her.

Sophelia couldn’t help but look up at Matcha in adoration at the gesture, which seemed as if he were asking her, Well, what?

Sophelia hadn’t had very much experience—practically none—around animals, so to be quite honest, it took courage for her to touch Matcha with his large frame and jet-black coat. While Sophelia didn’t reach out her hand to pet him since she figured it would’ve been unpleasant for the horse to have a girl he’d just met touching him, he did have a luxurious coat.

Sophelia was quite impressed. He was a terribly smart horse who seemed to understand when spoken to. Not to mention his almost-human expressions were terribly cute.

“You ran your absolute hardest back there, but I wasn’t able to thank you properly...” Sophelia began. “Instead, all I could do was complain about how scared or sick I felt. I’m terribly sorry.”

Matcha neighed back, shaking his head as if he were exasperated. It almost seemed like he was saying Is that what it was? and in another way, it didn’t.

“Hmm?” Sophelia said, tilting her head to the side in confusion, only for Matcha to sigh back.

She’d probably misunderstood. “Ummm...I’ll try my best today?”

Matcha whinnied in reply.

Ah, looks like that’s not right either. With her eyebrows furrowed together in thought, Sophelia looked back on what she’d said. She’d try her best...and he was saying no to that.

Huh? What could that mean?

“Are you trying to say...I don’t have to try my best?”

Matcha gave an affirming neigh. It seemed she was right this time.

I don’t have to try my best? Wow... That’s the first time anyone’s ever said that to me. Sophelia was struck by this. It was only natural for her to try her best. She had to try harder. Trying hard was just common sense, and if she couldn’t do that, then the least she could do was find some helpful way to die. That was the world Sophelia had spent her whole life in, and now he was saying she didn’t have to try too hard? And a horse was telling her that—the same horse who’d survived some sort of unimaginable training.

“Ah ha ha!” Sophelia’s laugh took even her by surprise.

Matcha nodded back, as if to say, There you go.

The horse’s master was one thing, and the horse himself was another. How could they both be so kind and warm and charming? It was astounding to think that there was a world like this out there.

Reality didn’t play out like a fairy tale, but apparently fairy tales weren’t flat-out lies either. Sophelia couldn’t believe that this was her reality, but it was. She was here right now, living in this moment.

“Thank you, Mr. Matcha.”

Matcha gave a satisfied neigh, looking pleased.

So that’s it! Sophelia thought, looking at Matcha’s long eyelashes. “Thank you for running so hard in the dark last night.”

Matcha neighed back with a nod as if to say, That’s right! Matcha lifted his nose just a bit, as if to look down on her. Sophelia couldn’t help but laugh. Good job! Want a gold star? Matcha seemed to say, playfully condescending.

What a horse!

Just who in their right mind decided that horses weren’t as smart as humans? Sophelia thought. At the very least, Matcha was far smarter than she was—not to mention far more boldhearted. If it were a competition, Matcha could leave His Royal Sleaziness in the dust with his steadfast—no, is steed-fast—character.

“I’m counting on you today, Mr. Matcha.”

Matcha whinnied back in exasperation.

Huh? Now he’s not looking at me...

Ahem. Let us return to the beginning.

It was a heartwarming morning unlike any Sophelia had ever experienced. It was a strange, somehow exciting morning. It all seemed so unreal, in fact, that Sophelia found herself looking back on her life so far. Was this her life flashing before her eyes just before her death? No, it wasn’t.

“Were the Knights looking out for me?” Sophelia asked. Looking back on it, Sophelia felt like the knights had often been around in the more pleasant times that reminded her of now. That was what had prompted Sophelia to ask.

“That’s right,” Livionis replied with a grin. “There are many in the Knights who feel indebted to you, Lady Sophelia. Some of them even hope to repay that debt in whatever way they can.”

“Repay me...?” Sophelia didn’t have the slightest recollection of any debt they’d incurred to her. All she could think of was the words of the knight who’d driven their carriage. “Apparently there’s some fan club...?” Sophelia asked.

“Ermph!” Livionis bit his tongue to Sophelia’s alarm. The fact that he didn’t spit out the soup he’d just sipped was a testimony to the manners he’d been raised with.

Sophelia watched him with strange admiration, only for Livionis to lift his gaze as his eyebrows sank down. “Just how much did you hear?”

That’s way too cute of a look to be making at me!

“How much? I mean...” Sophelia started. “You’re, uh, a fan of mine? And there’s some, uh, fan club? And they’re helping us...? I don’t quite get it, but...that was all some sort of joke, right?”

“Well, no...not, uh, not quite.” Livionis stumbled over his words, scratching his head and tilting it to the side, only for Matcha to thrust at him from behind.

“Ow!”

Matcha neighed back disapprovingly.

“Wait, seriously? No way! I mean, just hold up!” Livionis argued with his steed. “You’d think about how much you should say too! If Lady Sophelia says I’m disgusting because of you, I’ll—”

Listening to the duo argue—Can a man and a horse even be a duo? No, that didn’t matter. Listening to their conversation... Wait, could you even call that a “conversation”?

That didn’t matter either.

Either way, Sophelia didn’t understand their conversation or what they were getting at, but she couldn’t bring herself to agree with Livionis’s final statement.

“There’s no way I could ever call you disgusting, Sir Livionis.”

“Huh?” Shock was clear on Livionis’s face.

“Huh?” That’s my line! Just what was so shocking about what she’d said?

Livionis had a face that looked like it had been taken straight from a church’s stained glass window as it dazzled in the morning sun. The knight had saved Sophelia’s life, and now she’d been pushed headfirst into the ocean of love with a splash. It was almost insulting to suggest she could be disgusted by him after he’d illuminated her life with the sonorous melodies of spring!

Slightly annoyed, Sophelia stared back at Livionis’s flushed, doll-like face.

“I don’t know of anyone as stunning or admirable as you, Sir Livionis.”

“Er, eergh!”

Oh.

Livionis made an unintelligible sound, covering his face in his hands.

That very moment, the wooden bowl that Livionis had proudly boasted about making the previous night flew through the air—with the soup still in it.

Uh-oh, Sophelia thought, only for Matcha to soundly catch the bowl on the tip of his muzzle. The soup hadn’t spilled, nor had Matcha or Livionis been burned.

With the soup bowl still on his muzzle, Matcha glared at Livionis, frozen in place. Sophelia couldn’t help but give the horse a round of applause.

This horse was just entirely too cool.

But! But still!

Livionis was just so cute and precious and lovely! It was enough to make her want to squeal and then squeal some more! He was so cute it made her want to pound the ground with her fist as she howled and rolled around uncontrollably!

What’s this all about, you ask? Why, it’s about ways to describe cuteness besides the word “cute,” that’s what.

Yes, Sophelia was quite aware that the latter half of her description had gotten a bit strange, so she hoped only to be given some grace and left alone. Ever since she was just a wee little girl, she’d been a snot-nosed brat—no, actually she’d been molded by her mother and tutor, and after becoming engaged to the prince, she’d been trained by the queen and the castle’s instructor. And yet, her brain had been slacking on its duties ever since last night.

There wasn’t anything to be done about it. After all, Sophelia had erected a gravestone for her brain and left it an offering of blueberry candies. Sophelia’s new happy-go-lucky brain had taken over in her former, dearly departed brain’s wake, but being swept up in the height of spring as it was, functioning properly was too much to ask.

If you, dear reader, are wondering just what this is all referring to, then revisiting the moment Sophelia’s brain suffered a valiant death in the line of duty would serve you well—it was the same night Sophelia made her departure after witnessing her fiancé cheat on her.

And now, her happy-go-lucky brain was pleasantly singing as it searched for ways to describe “cute.” Why was it searching for such? Read on to find out.

Before Sophelia’s very eyes, Livionis’s handsome, pale face was now a bright red, his long eyelashes resting low to reveal a glimmer of his trembling blueberry eyes beneath them.

What the—?

His cuteness defied all reason.

“You’re so cu...” Sophelia clamped her mouth shut. She’d come terribly close to making a sound that was altogether unbecoming of a lady.

Since Sophelia was neither the crown prince’s fiancée nor the eldest daughter of House Lotus anymore, she figured now was a great time to forget her mother’s loving command (read: curse) to act as a proper lady. It was time to live her life. But this and that were two different matters entirely. There were just some sounds that a woman mustn’t make in front of a lovestruck man.

Even then, Sophelia was right in the middle of experiencing that “first love” thing that she’d only heard tales of, so she had no past experience to draw from. If she were to be accused of painting with overly broad strokes, all she could do was apologize, but Sophelia also hoped to be given some grace and left alone on that as well. It was, after all, little Sophelia’s very first time being in love!

With this man who was far cuter than herself before her, something within Sophelia made her want to be as cute as she could be in return. What would you even call that something? Girlish sentiment? Whatever it was, it was the first time that Sophelia realized she had something like that inside her.

“Uh, well, you see...” Livionis stammered. “I’ve been, uh, secretly supporting you from, uh, a distance, and...” Livionis paused, covering his face with his hands again. “Oh... What am I even doing blabbering about this to her...?!”

Matcha, for what it’s worth, had taken the bowl of soup that had been in Livionis’s hands just a few moments ago and carried it to safety, laying it down on the ground near Livionis. He really was a smart horse.

“B-Before I even realized what was happening,” Livionis continued, stumbling over his words, “they were calling me the CEO of your, um, fan club, and then the next thing I, uh, knew, there were a bunch of people calling themselves members, and, well...”

It was probably just Sophelia’s imagination making her think she heard Livionis make a gasping sound like an air leak or kettle whistle.

It was also probably Sophelia’s imagination making her think she heard the same sound escape from her own lips.

Sophelia pressed her hands against her piping hot cheeks. It didn’t help that her hands felt entirely too cold on her skin. She had no idea if he was being sincere or not.

“All that for...me?”

Livionis groaned. “Please don’t say anything, m’lady. I’ve spent the past three years devoted to you...”

Sophelia gasped.

Matcha let out a piercing neigh, as if he were watching a tragedy unfold before his eyes. While unfortunately Sophelia couldn’t understand what Matcha was saying, it was probably just her imagination that made it look like Matcha’s mood had been spoiled, almost as if to say, Seriously, you guys?

Without so much as a whinny, Matcha trotted off, away from the two of them. Guess it wasn’t my imagination after all... Sophelia was silently thankful to Matcha for being so considerate.

Fighting back the urge to mindlessly shout at the top of her lungs, Sophelia clenched her hands tight. With all of her breathing training, Sophelia had developed a voice that could certainly hold its own, so shouting would’ve been a considerable mistake.

“Do you...think I’m disgusting?” Livionis asked.

“You’re so cute.”

They both gasped. Sophelia hadn’t meant to say that.

Those glistening blueberry eyes of his peeking out from the gaps in his fingers as he covered his bloodred face had been so terribly cute that, before Sophelia even realized what had happened, the words had spilled out of her mouth. She covered her mouth with her hands, but it was too late to take the words back.

“S-Sir Livionis, it’s, uh, it’s not like that!” Sophelia stuttered. “I mean, it is like that, but that’s not what I mean! Wait, don’t look at me! What I mean is, you’re cute— No, that’s not what I mean!”

Livionis’s cheeks were stained an ever brighter red as his shiny blueberry eyes trembled. It was hard to imagine him as the shining star knight who was meant to bear the legacy of the mightiest house in all the kingdom...because he was just too adorable!

Almost immediately after joining the Knights, Livionis had been assigned to the First Squadron, a unit whose ranks were filled with those deemed exceptionally talented, even by the Knights’ standards. Having made appearances as a guard at evening parties and important ceremonies, Livionis was adored by many men and women alike.

And now that same Livionis was claiming to be a fan of Sophelia’s—and making a face like that to boot! Honestly, just who could blame Sophelia’s happy-go-lucky brain for madly dancing around as it tooted away on its flute?

Furrowing his brow in distress, Livionis was perfectly unaware of the chaos in Sophelia’s mind as she bit down on the inside of her cheeks.

“I... I saw your tireless dedication to our kingdom and your selfless determination,” Livionis said. “I only hoped to protect that.”

Sophelia remained silent. Her entire life. Her entire life she’d always been alone. She’d always thought she’d been on her own.

She’d gone about her work in silence every day as she fulfilled the duties she’d been given. Even when her proposals had been approved under the prince’s name, and even when she’d had to step in on behalf of the prince when he’d forgotten the name of yet another foreign dignitary, she’d been desensitized to the frustration.

After all, as the prince’s fiancée, Sophelia was the only one who could be beside him, the only one who could step in in place of him at times. So Sophelia told herself that she had to carry out her duties, reminding herself that it was all for the good of the kingdom as she mechanically passed from day to day. Sophelia didn’t feel a thing when the prince would swear and call her an unbecoming swine or a dreadful bore of a woman.

Even Sophelia found herself to be a boring individual, a trait she wasn’t fond of. But now? Now, here was Livionis, recognizing all of Sophelia’s efforts. There’d been someone supporting her all along the way. How could she even begin to describe the raging sea of her emotions right?

She’d thrown herself into her studies every day and pored over all those documents, but the words escaped her nonetheless. Her emotions were desperate to find an exit, leaving Sophelia with no means to stop the tears that suddenly erupted.

“Lady...Sophelia?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so happy.” Sophelia sniffed. “And you’re just so charming, and...”

The tears continued to flow no matter how many times Sophelia tried to wipe them away. She couldn’t stop laughing either. Her chest buzzed with excitement. Sophelia’s emotions were in complete and utter chaos.

They were like a raging night, like flowers swaying in the sun—like a puddle of water after the rain had gone. Sophelia had no way of controlling her own feelings. She had no way to make sense of them.

In the past she’d been able to chew her way through even the most bitter experiences, swallowing them down and letting them pass through her. But this was too precious to even put in her mouth in the first place. She could only scoop it up in her hands, cling to it, and embrace it, never to let it go for the rest of her life.

Livionis’s eyes, softened to a caring gaze, were the most stunning purple in the world, jewels that she treasured from the bottom of her heart.

“I’m glad I’m alive,” Sophelia said.

“If you weren’t...I’d simply die,” Livionis replied.

He certainly had a knack for exaggeration.

So long as she might live, Sophelia would never forget this moment and that face that seemed to be on the verge of tears. Livionis had taken such pains (not for the kingdom nor for the king) for her. Looking into his eyes, Sophelia vowed once more to bring him happiness, no matter what.

Livionis slowly extended his hand out to Sophelia.

“Might I be permitted to touch you?”

Sophelia giggled. He was asking now?

What was he even doing saying something like that now? Out of everyone, Livionis was the only one who’d ever laid a gentle hand on Sophelia. He was the one who’d thrown her heart into complete chaos with the way he’d caressed her.

“You didn’t ask anything like that yesterday,” Sophelia said.

“Come to think of it, I didn’t, did I?” Livionis replied.

But what if Sophelia had wanted to touch Livionis? If, perhaps, her romantic feelings for Livionis, wrapped as they were in shock and fear, had driven her hand to thoughtlessly clasp his own, then his touch could be nothing other than the pinnacle of joy.

That young, beaming smile of his—that was Sophelia’s joy.

Sophelia grasped the hand Livionis had extended to her. She held it tight in her grip—as tight as she could. Drawing a stark contrast with his handsome face, Livionis’s hand was thick and firm. Sophelia clasped his hand, calloused from wielding a sword, in her own hand—thin and brittle like a fallen branch—with all the strength she could muster.

“Might I be permitted to touch you as well, Sir Livionis?”

“B-But of course!” Livionis stammered.

“In that case, it’s unfair that you’re the only one who has to ask for permission, you know,” Sophelia replied. “You’re permitted to touch me every bit as much as I can touch you.”

Livionis’s eyes widened.

If only it were so! That alone practically summed up what Sophelia longed for.

Just how much was permitted? Just how much would he permit from her?

Rather than ask that question, Sophelia chose instead to stare into Livionis’s trembling blueberry eyes. They were heartrendingly adorable. More beautiful than any gem she’d ever laid eyes on and sweeter than any chef-crafted dessert, his eyes were simply adorable.

“Now that’s quite a bind!” Livionis laughed, his face still beaming red after wiping away Sophelia’s tears. “That would mean I could do anything I wanted to you.”

“I suppose it would.” Sophelia was terribly shy, but for some reason, with him, she could spit out bold statements like that without batting an eye.

But even then, Livionis’s mouth squinched up and his face grew even redder—the very pinnacle of redness—so red, in fact, that it would make an apple and tomato flee in shame and publicly renounce their roles as the representatives of redness from that day on. He was absolutely adorable.

He was also absolutely terrifying, a charming, needy beggar after every last bit of Sophelia he could get.

Are you sure that’s okay, though? Are you sure you shouldn’t be running away? he seemed to be saying, as if to make a cute little attempt at a threat. Sophelia could only laugh.

“Do you really think I would run away?”

Or perhaps he was even entertaining the idea of shaking her off somehow? As if. Sophelia couldn’t help but laugh through her tears. If you’re still going to say that sort of nonsense even after all this, maybe I should just grab you by the chest and scream that you lied to me yesterday?

“I said I wouldn’t let you go, didn’t I?” Sophelia continued.

Livionis gasped.

Deep, deep, deep down, Sophelia was absolutely, helplessly terrified. After all, she’d never once been loved by anyone. Even if she were praised for her plans or ideas, she couldn’t bring herself to believe them. Sorry to make you go to all the trouble of worrying about me! Sophelia knew she had no escape nor freedom save death, so they could save themselves the trouble of being concerned about her. Sophelia’s only worth lay in a life lived in service to her king and the citizens of the kingdom. Sophelia knew full well that even dying was an act of selfishness she would not be permitted. She’d been born to House Lotus, so she’d been raised to die as a noble of House Lotus in turn.

To die.

Die...?

Had Sophelia really wanted to die? Had that really been it? Sophelia wasn’t even sure of that anymore. She knew that she couldn’t die from hyperventilation, but had she really wanted to die all those times back then?

She didn’t know.

Sophelia had lived her whole life pretending her heart wasn’t there in the first place. And now, the prospect of accepting that someone actually cared about her was absolutely terrifying to her. She just couldn’t believe it.

You had to have some sort of basis to believe in something, didn’t you? You’d need some sort of logic behind it, wouldn’t you? And yet, Sophelia couldn’t find a single shred of proof that would allow her to believe the fairy tale that someone actually cared for her.

You there. Why don’t you try thinking about it, hmm?

If there were a stone or a dirty wheel or a chipped knife just lying around and you had a person stand before you and say they liked it, you’d wonder what was wrong with them, wouldn’t you? If the thought wouldn’t cross your mind, then you’re a generous soul. You’re a shining star in an all-too-dark world, so I do hope you’ll take care of yourself.

Sophelia’s soul, on the other hand, might’ve looked shiny enough, but in all actuality, it was shallow and cracked, like a worn porcelain bowl. She’d been taught to only fill her soul-bowl with something after she’d given it a thorough inspection, and since she’d continued using it far beyond its intended lifespan, she had to be extra careful that what little of herself she had didn’t spill through the cracks. So, in order to consider whether or not it was safe to put something in her soul-bowl, Sophelia needed proof.

Oh, but still, that Livionis! With gems for eyes, one of the most capable sword arms in all the land, and a beautiful steed that could take him anywhere, that same Livionis had said that the stone, the dirty wheel, the chipped knife was special.

To Sophelia, the very idea of believing such a thing was overwhelmingly terrifying. It was the first time in her whole life she’d been offered something so beautiful and sweet and kind. She was terrified that, in the very next moment, Livionis might simply say he’d changed his mind and cast her aside.

“This is the only place I can be,” Sophelia said.

And yet...

“So you’ll permit me my joy in hearing you say that?” Livionis asked.

Seeing Livionis’s handsome face light up as he spoke of his joy was enough to dissipate Sophelia’s fears.

“Proof”? “Logic”? Do you even hear how stupid you sound right now? Sophelia’s happy-go-lucky brain sneered from the surface of Sophelia’s soul-bowl, busily singing and dancing and bouncing as it tweeted out a song on its flute.

Who needs some boring old logic anyway? My, love really is a beautiful thing!

Sophelia and Livionis laughed together, their faces still red. She hoped that her happy-go-lucky brain would end up completely shattering her soul-bowl someday soon.

She could only imagine how euphoric hearing it crack in half would be.

Sophelia would just replace her porcelain soul-bowl with a brand-new wooden one, especially large and sturdy and beautiful. It would be one that she hadn’t been told to take or had forced upon her. It would be the one and only soul-bowl that belonged to Sophelia and Sophelia alone.

Now then.

With her eyes having grown heavy from crying, Sophelia decided to wash her face. When she made her way back with Matcha, who’d accompanied her for a second time, Livionis offered her soup in a wooden bowl.

Since they’d been talking about all manner of things before they could even start their breakfast, they decided to put it back in the pot to heat it once more.

Taking the bowl in her hands a second time, Sophelia noticed the smooth feel of the wood against her hand. Jam-packed with ingredients, the soup smelled magnificent.

“You’re quite skillful, aren’t you, Sir Livionis?”

“You think so?” Livionis replied. “My mother and younger brother say I’m just like my father, rough and barbaric—just as a man of House Warrion ought to be.”

“They say you’re just like him?” Sophelia asked.

“Yes. It’s rather insulting, isn’t it? Calling me the same as that old dirtbag!”

I think your father’s the one being insulted here, Sophelia thought to herself with a laugh.

Livionis looked less than pleased with the comparison, but he was just as cute even then. The fact that he could say things like “that old dirtbag” with such an elegant, beautiful face—the spitting image of his mother, Adealyde, the brilliant flower of the highest social circle—bore its own cute charm as well. It was a thing of beauty even watching him bring a spoonful of soup to his lips. One might mistake this for the royal dining table, not some forest in the middle of nowhere.

“Bon appétit!” Livionis said.

“Likewise!” Sophelia replied.

Following Livionis’s lead, Sophelia brought the soup to her mouth. The bowl’s matching spoon—matching in the sense that Livionis had fashioned them both from the same tree—was light and smooth to the touch. It carried just the faintest hint of a woody scent. Could an item of this quality really have been crafted in just a single night?

Sophelia had been confronted with oddity after oddity, but she’d given up on trying to hold the Warrions to the standard of common sense, so it was all just fine. Fretting over all the minor details would have been a waste. The only truth was the one sitting right before her eyes.

The fragrant smell of the soup filled Sophelia’s nostrils as she put it into her mouth, only for her eyes to snap wide open.

What? What is this? Huh??? Sophelia froze in place, completely befuddled. It was like she’d been struck by lightning—or perhaps like she’d been thrown into the raging currents?

How could she even begin to put it into words? She wanted to burst into tears and laughter in equal measure, but she couldn’t even bring herself to close her eyes to process the shock of it all.

“It’s...amazing...!” Sophelia said, lifting her head from the soup bowl.

Livionis smiled back. “Glad to hear it.”

He was just so cute with that blush on his cheeks, and the soup was just so delicious.

That’s right, delicious. It was delicious. It was truly, unbearably delicious! The soup was filled with sweet and mellow onions and tantalizing spices. It was warm and rich and...delicious!

“I’ve never eaten something this delicious in all my life...” Sophelia declared.

“Surely that’s, uh...” Livionis trailed off. “That’s being a bit too generous, Lady Sophelia...” Livionis shook his head, his face growing bright red. Sophelia, however, hadn’t been joking or trying to flatter him.

For the first time in all her life, Sophelia was dining.

It was the first time she’d ever thought that eating could be fun, delightful...and delicious. It was as if she were alive.

Sophelia laughed, only for him to give a sheepish laugh back with his eyebrows drooped. Sophelia was so overjoyed at how delicious it was that she wanted to cry, but if she cried now, the soup would just go to waste. Sophelia secretly took a calming breath and put another spoonful of soup in her mouth.

“It really is delicious, Sir Livionis.”

“Y-Yes, we can just leave it at that...!” Livionis replied.

Livionis probably couldn’t imagine the emotions—the joy—she was feeling right now. How could he? After all, to most people, meals were just time spent enjoying delicious food. Livionis likely had no way of knowing that Sophelia had known nothing of such joys. Sophelia was the only one who knew that what was just a matter of fact to her wasn’t the same to others, and what was commonplace to them was the stuff of fairy tales to her.

While it was frustrating, she knew she might very well burst into tears again trying to explain it, so instead Sophelia opted to give the biggest smile she could, hoping that Livionis might understand even a fraction of the joy the soup gave her.

“No, it really is exceptionally delicious, Sir Livionis!”

“Urk!” Livionis replied.

Just what was “urk” even supposed to mean?

“By the way, Sir Livionis,” Sophelia began.

“Yes?”

After they’d finished their meal, Livionis had produced a wooden cup from somewhere and filled it with tea. Sophelia gave him her heartfelt thanks, only for Livionis to beam as his cheeks flushed with color. His reaction was absolutely adorable, so Sophelia had decided against asking him if he’d really made all of it in one night. Details, schmetails.

Sophelia had made up her mind that she wouldn’t be startled by anything that came from this man.

“Whereabouts are we now?” Sophelia asked.

“Yes, it was quite dark, wasn’t it?” Livionis replied. “Come to think of it, I didn’t even tell you where we were going.” He apologized, his brow sinking down. Sophelia shook her head, as if to say no apologies were necessary.

“Well, last night we took the service road from the west of the capital,” Livionis explained. “The road itself is in between the Lotus manor and the castle, but travelers on it are few and far between. Not to mention you can hardly see your surroundings on the path. I figured it was just what we were looking for.”

“After that,” Livionis continued, “Matcha ran full speed ahead, and we’ve cut through the forest. We’ll soon be in Hardale.”

When asked if she’d like to look at it on a map, Sophelia shook her head again. Even her happy-go-lucky brain had enough of a recollection of the kingdom’s surroundings.

“It’s quite a distance from the capital,” Sophelia noted. “Mr. Matcha’s certainly a speedy steed, isn’t he?”

Matcha gave a hearty neigh in agreement.

It was as if he were saying, Right? or I guess so! so Sophelia couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’ve got a point,” Livionis replied. “Not only is he fast, but he’s got the guts to climb up anywhere, even a cliff. He can take the shortest way there—straight up.”

“Mr. Matcha really is as amazing as they come!” Sophelia said.

Wait, cliffs? Guts?

Sophelia had once read of a people who lived alongside the mountain goats that dwelled in the cliffs. But could horses climb up cliffs too? Perhaps she’d heard of a horse like that...or perhaps not.

Sophelia wasn’t well-versed in horses, so after thinking about it for a moment, she decided that it didn’t matter and gave up thinking about it. It would have been a real bother if she ended up inviting a certain gentleman to give her a lecture on what horses were all about. If he said Matcha could climb up cliffs, then he could climb up cliffs, end of story. Details, schmetails.

“I ended up letting him run at his normal speed without even realizing it,” Livionis replied. “So I’m terribly sorry to have put you under such strain, Lady Sophelia.”

Matcha gave a guilty neigh in reply.

“Please, don’t worry yourself with such things! I’ve got a feeling I’ll be just fine today!” While going up cliffs would be just a bit too much, if they were just riding along, Sophelia felt like she could better handle the ride today.

Sophelia had put enough pep in her reply, but Livionis and Matcha simply exchanged looks.

“No, it’s not that far to town from here,” Livionis replied. “Let’s walk. We’ll arrive by sundown.”

Matcha gave a hearty neigh, nodding in agreement.

That explained it. So that was why Matcha hadn’t given a very enthusiastic response when Sophelia had told him that she was counting on him at the riverside. Sophelia couldn’t help but feel guilty for making the two of them worry about her so much.

They would’ve already been in town by now if Sophelia hadn’t been with them, so to suggest they walk instead seemed absurd. She couldn’t bring them any more trouble than she already had.

“But if we rode on Mr. Matcha, we’d be there in the blink of an eye,” Sophelia objected. “It would be a shame to ask such of you.”

“Well then. What about this?” Livionis pushed himself to his feet, stroking Matcha’s mane. “Try riding on Matcha. We’ll check to see if you’re actually fine to ride first. How’s that sound?”

Sophelia rose to her feet and nodded, her hands clenched with the confidence that it’d be just fine. After all, with how smart and gentle Matcha was, what was there to even be afraid of? It would be a stain on her reputation and honor as a woman if she stood down now. Whether or not she had enough of a reputation to get stained in the first place was a matter for another time.

“Yes, please!” Sophelia replied.

“Very well then. Pardon me.”

No sooner had the words “pardon me” left his mouth than Sophelia felt her body being lifted up weightlessly in Livionis’s arms, only to be plopped down on Matcha’s back a moment later.

Sophelia nearly gasped in shock—and it was indeed a shock. It’d been dark yesterday, and they’d been dashing along at an incredible speed. Most importantly, it had been her first time ever riding on a horse. It was bound to be scary!

But today? Today Sophelia was different. She’d had a good night’s sleep and woken up full of energy. She’d seen just how cute and cool Matcha was. And now, sitting atop Matcha’s back as the steed remained calm in place, Sophelia realized just how stunningly beautiful the scenery that surrounded her was.

Trees bursting with life. Sunlight spilling through the treetops. A gentle wind caressing her cheek. The sound of birdsong in the air. She’d never experienced anything like the beauty and tranquility of the nature surrounding her. It was, well, um, uh...yeah.

It was terrifying.

Now that was a real surprise, as surprising as it gets. She was absolutely, positively, ridiculously scared. The breathtaking scenery around her, the calming touch of nature... Sophelia couldn’t give even the slightest figment of a damn about any of that. None of that nonsense mattered; she was scared.

She was so high up. She was seeing things from on high. Sophelia glanced at her feet and felt like vomiting. This is terrifying!

She was floating, after all! Her feet weren’t on the ground, so that meant she was floating. Do you hear me? Floa-ting! Sophelia was in no mind to hear any arguments to the contrary.

“Perhaps we should get you down now?” Livionis suggested.

Sophelia, however, couldn’t bring herself to look at Livionis’s face. And it was her favorite face to look at too! She couldn’t even allow herself so much as a glance at him.

Because if she looked down, she would die.

Sophelia needed no more convincing. She was afraid of heights. What she’d felt yesterday hadn’t been some misunderstanding. It wasn’t a matter of whether it was a horse or whether she was used to it. Instead, the moment her brain realized she was somewhere high up, she was overrun with terror. There was no logic to it. While she’d thought she’d lived her life with logic up until now, Sophelia’s brain was now functioning purely on instinct. Not that that was particularly shocking. It hadn’t been very long at all since her brain had started the job, after all. She’d give it some time and see where things went.

That was why the only thing Sophelia could spit out was “I’m fine.”

“There’s absolutely no way you’re fine,” Livionis replied.

Well, she wasn’t fine, but she didn’t want to slow him down either. Sophelia hated causing problems for people. She hated causing problems for Livionis and Matcha. She resented herself for causing problems.

Sophelia shook her head, quivering in place.

“Lady Sophelia,” Livionis began, his tone especially kind and gentle, “both Matcha and I want only to enjoy our time with you, you know. This isn’t some duty of yours, and we’re not just marching off somewhere. This is a journey for you, Matcha, and me. We’re the only ones.”

When she didn’t reply, he spoke to her gently again. “Lady Sophelia? Would you favor me with your gaze?”

She wanted to look at Livionis, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t look down. Livionis probably knew that too. It was Livionis’s own gentle way of dissuading her. She couldn’t even look at him, so riding Matcha into town was almost certainly out of the question.

Mustering every bit of willpower she had, Sophelia grunted and looked down to see Livionis awaiting her with open arms.

“Okay,” she managed to say.

But the way he beamed back at her was— Oh, how to put it? Ah, that’s right. Utterly unbearable.

So this is what it feels like to be disappointed in yourself, huh?

Sophelia had made her way through life resigning herself to her circumstances and accepting whatever was tossed her way. Even when the prince had given her a stack of papers (that he was supposed to read) and told her to memorize them in five minutes, and even when he’d made the impossible request to sort out all the documents by the next day, Sophelia had managed to handle it all. But this was her first time ever being faced with a problem she could do absolutely nothing about that made her want to howl and yank her hair out.

Sophelia let out a small groan and extended her hands. Same as when he’d lifted her the first time, Livionis plucked Sophelia up and put her back on the ground. She was intensely disappointed in herself—in the fact that she felt relieved, the fact that even the very ground beneath her feet felt precious to her.

“Lady Sophelia,” Livionis said. “Let’s slow down to enjoy our adventure together. You and me and Matcha.”

“I...wanted to ride on Mr. Matcha too...” Sophelia replied. She’d find no other steed as fine in all the land, and yet she couldn’t even enjoy sitting atop his back, let alone riding on it. Sophelia’s shoulders slumped down in defeat only for Matcha to whinny in response.

“He said, ‘Don’t look so sad,’ Lady Sophelia,” Livionis explained.

“Sad...?” Sophelia tossed the word around in her mouth.

Ah, of course. This was what sadness felt like.

It was an uneasy feeling, like she’d just been abandoned, all on her own. It was a cold sensation in her chest that made her clench up in defense, like it was all just such a shame. It was that sort of feeling. This one wasn’t a nice feeling either.

Sophelia wished she hadn’t discovered this feeling. It was like that feeling from long, long ago, when Sophelia was still a child—when she’d found out about the world beyond her manor’s walls.

That’s right. Back then...

Back then, when Sophelia had been stunned by the sight of adults, on the street corner or at tea parties, embracing their children and patting them lovingly on the head.

“I’m sad. And I’m disappointed,” she admitted. Sophelia was sure she’d been sad and disappointed back then too. She couldn’t say it then. She hadn’t known the words.

To Sophelia, any sort of backward, negative emotion wasn’t just meaningless—it was something that would only make the situation worse. It was far quicker to just give up than fret over something like that. It was far easier to live if she just gulped down her own emotions and pretended they didn’t exist.

But now, Livionis stood before her, lowering his brows sympathetically. “Yes, you must be.”

Acknowledging her feelings, telling them to someone else, and having them listen—Sophelia hadn’t had even the slightest idea that it could be so buoyantly liberating to be able to do just that.

Sadness and disappointment weren’t good things. But actually, on second thought, they were good things. It was fine. After all, it just seemed like that was life. The world was brimming with things Sophelia didn’t know.

“Lady Sophelia?”

“Thank you, Sir Livionis,” Sophelia replied.

Being able to thank someone—someone you love—from the bottom of your heart, rather than apologizing... Having someone who would shine a smile right back at you when you smiled at them... For the first time in her life, Sophelia realized just how soul-soothingly reassuring and joyful those very things could be.

Chapter Eight: Declaring You Can’t Say No

“So it’s Livio and Sophie, hmm?” the innkeeper said with a welcoming, hearty laugh as she beamed at the two of them. “Did you two just get hitched?”

Sophelia and Livionis grew bright red.

“Oh, you two just make the most adorable little couple!” the innkeeper went on.

Ms. Innkeeper? I beg of you. Please...say no more.

Now, where were we?

Livio? Sophie? Worry not—this is no error on their part or yours. Indeed, the names referred to Livionis and Sophelia.

After eating a late breakfast that morning, they had set out for town on foot. Matcha, the clever, black-coated steed, had trotted alongside them, carrying their bags even without Livionis at the reins. Livionis had walked beside him, and Sophelia, in turn, beside Livionis.

Livionis encouraged Sophelia with a smile to slow down and enjoy their journey together, and true to his word, he walked beside her, matching Sophelia’s measured pace. Her first step? Ladylike. Her second step? Ladylike. Whether it was her third or fourth or fifth step, her gait was unfalteringly ladylike. It was how her mother had taught her to walk, and while she wasn’t used to trekking about, it seemed all her training hadn’t just been for show.

It helped that the lace-up boots Livionis and his servants had prepared for her were surprisingly light and easy to walk in. With both Matcha and Livionis walking slowly to accommodate her, she had been able to make her way on foot without pushing herself.

Their conversation on the way to town was, to put it frankly, nothing of importance. They talked about how Sophelia didn’t have a sweet tooth, but Livionis did; how Sophelia was deathly afraid of heights and Livionis loved climbing up to reach high places; how Sophelia liked reading books, but Livionis wasn’t very fond of following the letters with his eyes.

In other words, the two were complete opposites.

From Sophelia’s perspective, it didn’t matter whether you looked at him from the front or the back, Livionis was beautiful. Though she’d never looked at him from above or below or diagonally, he was (probably, surely) beautiful from every single angle. Sophelia, on the other hand, was plain and lacking in presence whether you squinted at her or tried looking at her in the dark. Sophelia had never considered the two of them the same sort of creature. She was all smiles, absolutely delighted to learn more about Livionis, but for some reason, he had seemed a bit down.

Huh? You’d get sad over me? That was the core of it. That’s way too cute of you!

“So, um, by the way, Lady Sophelia...” Livionis said.

Sophelia tilted her head, not quite sure what he was trying to get at addressing her so suddenly. “Yes?”

Matcha swished his tail and neighed.

“Well, it’s just...” he began. “Nobles tend to have longer names, right?”

“Yes, that’s true,” Sophelia replied.

Livionis had a point. Their names might prove unsuitable for making their escape. “Sophelia” and “Livionis”—while their names weren’t terribly long, they were unusual names for common folk or adventurers.

Sophelia nodded. “What about taking up false names?”

“Yes, that’s just it,” Livionis replied. “But, if the names are too different from our real ones, then we may run the risk of responding to them too slowly. Unfamiliar names could be a risk.”

“That’s true,” Sophelia agreed.

While Sophelia nodded in agreement, Matcha gave a small whinny.

“Can it, you,” Livionis replied, blushing.

Sophelia wasn’t sure what the two were saying to each other, but she certainly thought Livionis had a point. Were Livionis to address her as “Chocolat,” Sophelia’s response was sure to be slow since being called so would’ve left her staring in confusion. At the very least, call her Pancetta!

Wait, that’s not what all this is about?

“So, uh... I thought you might call me ‘Livio’ instead,” Livionis offered with a flushed face and a nervous laugh.

Sophelia nodded back in reply. There went Livionis being far too adorable again.

“So ‘Sir Livio,’ then?”

Livionis gasped, his face suddenly growing even redder—so red you could practically hear it.

Huh? Is that normal? The red now flushing across Livionis’s face went far beyond “cute.” It was extreme enough to make her worry.

“Well, I mean, it’s, uh...not that different, but...” Livionis stammered, “i-it’s just, ‘Livvy’ was a pet name my mother had for me, so I just figured it was a little... You know?”

Sophelia blinked wide in surprise, watching him nervously laugh with his face flushed bright red.

A “pet name”?

Hmm? A pet name? What was a pet name again? Sophelia paged through her mental dictionary. After a moment, her second-generation brain played a triumphant fanfare on its horn as it shot confetti into the air.

Attention, everyone! A “pet name” is a nickname used by those you’re particularly close with!

“Erk!” Fizzling, Sophelia’s face had probably made something of a noise too. She placed her hands on her cheeks, which were almost certainly just as red as Livionis’s—no, Livio’s.

“I-Is it okay if I, uh, call you that...?” She pushed the words out, practically moaning.

Noticing Sophelia’s voice trail off, Livio realized that Sophelia had understood what “pet name” meant, that she’d found her answer for why Livionis had struggled to bring himself to say it.

He’d realized what was going on. Livionis inhaled and gave a firm nod a moment later, his face painted red. “Please, call me ‘Livio.’ Although, if possible, perhaps you might refrain from the ‘sir’ bit...”

Hmm... Well, he did have a point. They were traveling together, after all, so calling each other “Lady Sophelia” and “Sir Livionis” was sure to draw suspicion. Sophelia figured there was likely no deep reason behind his request to forgo such formalities, but if that were the case, there wouldn’t be any need to hesitate and blush in front of each other, would there? Sophelia found herself at a loss for words.

Matcha gave a small neigh. Despite not having any idea what Matcha was saying, for some reason Sophelia found herself wanting to nod back in agreement and tell him he had a point. Behind that neigh were signs of his—Livio’s—feelings toward Sophelia. She couldn’t help but read between the lines...or get her hopes up.

Sophelia clenched her bag’s shoulder strap. It was the bag Livionis had readied for her, light and sturdy. And it wasn’t just the bag that was light. The dress she wore now wasn’t just cute—it was incredibly lightweight, a night and day difference between the heavy, lavish dresses she used to wear. The lace-up boots were the same. This lightness she felt wasn’t just in those things that Livionis had given Sophelia to sweep her away—it was his words, his smile.

Sophelia wanted to believe it all, but the thought of it was terrifying. It was like climbing a staircase one step at a time toward some great height. The terror of plunging down from up high clung to her without any hint of peeling away.

But if Sophelia merely said the word, Livionis—Livio—was sure to beam at her with that adorable smile of his. He could have the whole world in the palm of his hand any time he wanted with that gorgeous face of his, but he still chose to smile at Sophelia of all people! At that point, it didn’t matter whether it were stairs or a ladder—her only choice was to climb up and jump straight down!

Sophelia stared into Livionis’s purple eyes, which glistened if they’d been inlaid with stars. “W-Well, if you’re going to do that, then call me ‘Sophie’!”

“Huh?” Livionis replied. “Soph...!” Livionis gave her a blank stare back before muttering something and finally bursting in two.

No, not like that. Metaphorically.

If Livionis had actually burst in two before Sophelia’s very eyes, there was no doubt this would transform into the most bizarre trauma-guaranteed-or-your-money-back incident. If that had happened, Sophelia’s journey would have ended right there. Dream or not, that’s just way too depressing a resolution. So calm down—it was just a metaphor.

Livio grew so red you could say he’d burst in two and no one would complain. He stiffened up and probably even floated a bit off the ground with a bounce.

“I’m Sophie.”

“Lady S-S-S-S-S-S-Soooophieeeee.” Livionis called her name as if he were singing a song.

Sophelia—no, Sophie—giggled. “Would you call me that again?”

“Lady S-S-Sophieeee.”

Almost.

It was the S’s. There were too many S’s. It was like he was trying to carve out some rhythm with her name.

“Sir Livio—no, uh, Livio—don’t you think my name would be better without the ‘Lady’ part too?”

Livionis paused for a moment...and then another. Finally he stuttered, “Th-That’s not happening!”

Livio made his declaration. The former knight and former Livionis Warrion shook his head with all his might, his face bright red. Sophelia’s happy-go-lucky brain was ringing its handbell back and forth at just how absurdly cute he was.

“But Livio, I’ve never had a pet name before,” Sophelia replied. “I want you to call me ‘Sophie.’”

“That’s just way too cute...!” Livionis’s voice trembled as he buried his face in his hands. “I caaaaan’t!” he wailed.

Are you sure you’re not just putting me on some pedestal? Sophelia-now-Sophie had her doubts about Livio’s sanity, but if he snapped out of it, it was all over for her. Love was all about being an idiot—a fact that Sophie, in the trenches of her first love, agreed with as she joined hands with her happy-go-lucky brain.

Which brings us back to that evening, when they arrived at the inn beneath a dazzling twilight sky, only for them to be startled by their new names and grow bright red.

“And the room?” the innkeeper said. “Just one, right?”

From the corner of her eye, Sophelia saw Livionis turn bright red as he stammered out his reply. “T-Two rooms, please!”

This was like just a bit earlier.

If, yesterday afternoon, for example, her father or the prince had asked for separate rooms the same way, she would’ve simply given an ironic laugh and apologized for being with them. She would’ve been as crestfallen or as hurt as you might expect. For their part, they probably would’ve been shocked she still felt such things after all this time.

She’d only met Livionis last night at the evening party, and even if he was the one asking for separate rooms, when she realized that he was embarrassed, it was somehow just as embarrassing for her. It was a strange thing. Her happy-go-lucky brain had been doing a splendid job.

“We don’t have enough rooms open for that, I’m afraid,” the innkeeper said. “Just a minute ago, we had a brother and sister who did not want to room together at all, but they gave up and went for the same room.”

Livionis’s eyes widened.

“By the way,” the innkeeper continued, “we’re the only inn in town. It’s a small place, you see.”

Trembling with his face bright red as Sophelia tugged at his sleeve and looked up at him, Livionis was a small creature of a massive man...which begs the question of what “a small creature of a massive man” even means. After all, with that handsome face of his and the way his eyes seemed to quiver with his face stained red, he was altogether just too adorable. That was the part that was like some small creature. His body was massive though.

“I’m fine with the same room, Livio,” Sophelia offered.

“B-But...”

“Well now! So it’s a bit of a complicated situation for you two?” the innkeeper replied. “How charming! I’ve got a soft spot for that sort of thing, you know. That settles it! I’ll let you two stay for free, so you just settle in and relax!”

The innkeeper’s face made it clear she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Livionis tried to mutter out an excuse before giving up and accepting the room.

Sophie tried imagining what the two of them must look like to the good-natured innkeeper.

But even then...no matter how hard or how many times he tried, Livio couldn’t call her “Sophie.” Not to mention he couldn’t shake off the air of formality he adopted when speaking with her.

“My apologies,” Livio told her privately, speaking to her as if she were some innocent little girl. Sophie felt as if she were on the brink of unlocking some door she must never open, so she forced herself to ignore it with everything she had. She’d tried to seal it up tightly by nailing a board over it, but when she was with Livio, she was terrified that it might burst open at some point.

For what it was worth, Sophie couldn’t shake off her formalities either, no matter how infatuated she might have been. Or perhaps that was precisely why she couldn’t. She couldn’t just address the successor of House Warrion with a “Hiii, sweetie!” Despite appearances, Sophelia was a proper lady.

Looking like he might collapse from the strain of it all at any moment, Livio had a breakthrough.

“Let’s just give up.”

“What?” Sophie searched for more words to answer him with. You’re saying you’re ready to just give up? With that nice face and voice of yours...?

“L-Lady Sophie,” Livio went on. “Poor acting and lying on our part will only bring trouble. It would be strange if you and I were saying two different things, L-L-Lady Sophie.”

What’s strange here is how you’re addressing me. But Sophie neither said nor thought that.

He’s just so adorable... Sophie thought instead as she nodded back.

“Let us speak in the way that’s least burdensome for us,” Livionis replied. “We can do that and then let those around us imagine that we’re whatever they please, be it a noble lady and her servant or a princess and her knight. We’ll just go on with a smile, without confirming or denying any of it. Don’t you agree?” he asked, looking weary. It sounded as if he were addressing himself, but Sophie was just as guilty as he was. She had no defense.

In other words, all Sophie could hope to say back was “Sir, yes, sir!”

Not to mention that when the innkeeper had asked them if they were in a “complicated situation” with a smile, it was almost a bit fun to imagine how they must’ve looked to her. If it had been Sophie, seeing a boundlessly handsome man and a deeply plain and forgettable woman traveling together, her imagination was sure to run wild. It seemed like it’d be fun to be the one doing the imagining.

But unfortunately, the one who was having the most fun was, without a doubt, Sophie herself. Sophie couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped her lips.

It was at that very moment when a scream and the bloodthirsty cry of a beast rang out in tandem.

“O azure wind, devote thyself to the twin-headed song of thine encounter ages past!”

“O devastating breath of solitude, sink your claws into my foe!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me! I can’t cut through the damn thing!”

“Here it comes! Get outta the way!”

A beast roared alongside the sound of people’s screams.

Startled, Sophie and Livio rushed out of the inn, only to see a gargantuan monster surrounded by adventurers desperately swinging their swords and mages chanting incantations.

The monster looked like a bird, so massive that it could easily look down upon the second story of a building. None of the attacks seemed to faze it as it let out an angry squawk. With a mighty flap of its wings, the monster made a gust of wind so strong it sent street stalls and the roofs of buildings flying. Screams pierced the air as people hid themselves from the falling rubble.

Sophie, however, found herself shielded in Livio’s embrace. Thanks to him, she hadn’t been hurt in the slightest. Far from any harm, he was so warm and smelled so nice that Sophie felt like she might make some sort of odd squeal. She wished that happy-go-lucky brain of hers would take a step back.

As the gust settled, Livio removed himself from Sophie and stepped forward, only for her to rush after him.

“Livio!”

“Lady Sophie, please stay inside.” His voice was as sharp as a blade, but Sophie shook her head right back.

“I told you, didn’t I? I can use defensive magic,” she replied with her fists clenched. “I promise I won’t slow you down, so please let me go with you!”

Livio’s stunning eyes opened wide as he blinked at her, only to gently laugh a moment later. A prideful knight he was indeed. Even before a monster, he didn’t show even a hint of distress, instead giving a smile so beautiful it felt out of place. Looking so enraptured he might almost forget the situation at hand, Livio gave an unbothered reply. “You won’t have time to slow me down. I’ll finish this in the blink of an eye. But just to be safe, cast a defensive spell on me before I go.” His black hair swayed in the wake of his declaration.

Livio took a step forward as Sophie clenched her fists against his broad back.

He’s just too cool! Even his back looks cool!

Indeed, under normal circumstances, Livionis Warrion was incredibly cool. But between his overwhelming beauty and bright red cheeks, he was so unbelievably cute one might be forgiven for forgetting that he was a knight set to inherit the title of strongest in all the land. It was only natural that he was cooler than anyone else.

Get your head out of the clouds! Sophelia thought as she snapped back to her senses and cast a wide-ranging defensive spell that fell across all the bystanders who’d failed to make their escape.

Livionis dashed out as a blue light wrapped around his body. The very next moment, he held a greatsword nearly as long as himself. He really was a heavenly messenger or some sort of fairy! Or not. It was only natural for him.

“That’s...!”

The knights of the castle kept guard at evening parties or official events, but it certainly wasn’t the case that they each wielded an elegant, svelte sword. While they probably could use it if they wanted to, a sword wasn’t always the weapon most suited to helping them demonstrate a knight’s power, noble and refined though it was. They might’ve wielded a bow and arrow, or a lance, or—as was the case with Livionis—even a greatsword. People’s affinities for weapons varied as much as the wielders themselves.

And yet, it was hard to imagine that Livio could attend to his guard duties equipped with the greatsword he wielded. Their weapons for guard duty could only be so imposing, after all. Had he wielded such a weapon on guard duty, he might as well have been shouting, “The castle’s a terribly dangerous place, you know!” or “I don’t trust a one of you slimy oafs!”

The solution to this issue was the use of magic gems—gems that had, as their name implied, been imbued with magic and could store weapons within them. While saying they “stored” the weapon made it sound simple, needless to say, the process was anything but.

Given that magic had to be circulated through the weapon itself before making adjustments to allow it to adapt to the magic gem, it was a difficult task for knights who didn’t have the best control of magic. What was more, magic gems were far from inexpensive, so they certainly weren’t given out like candy. With that in mind, only a fraction of the knights were able to use them in the first place.

In other words, they were rare luxury items. They were reserved only for those who were assigned to keep guard at special locations, and only those who were permitted to use them at that. At least that was how it was supposed to work...

“He ended up taking it with him...” Sophelia said to herself.

He’d almost certainly forgotten to return his magic gem, no doubt about it. After all, they’d been traveling ever since the night of the evening party. Guess that sort of thing can happen.

Sophie decided to stop thinking and instead focused on upholding her spell. She took a deep breath and checked the flow of the magic. That was the first time she’d ever put up a defensive wall large enough to block off a road, but it seemed quite solid. She didn’t feel the magic cutting off anywhere either.

All set! Sophelia lifted her gaze up.

“Out of the way!” Livio shouted into the crowd. “Step aside!”

Stunned, the adventurers turned in surprise at Livio’s voice, only to hurriedly rush away when they noticed his greatsword. While it was unlikely they were aware of Livio’s identity, they almost certainly felt his drive as he rushed into battle.

As tall and well-built as he was, Livio seemed small in comparison to the massive bird monster casting a piercing glare down at him.

Bracing himself, Livio brought his greatsword over his head and swung it down. His black hair swayed alongside his body’s graceful movements. His robe spread out in his wake, like the cape of a dancing knight. Sophelia gasped at the sheer beauty of it, so stunning it was hard to imagine he was wielding a greatsword nearly as long as he was tall.

At that very moment, a mighty gust of wind tore across the scene.

“I-I’ve never seen such a mighty blow...!” Sophie heard someone say.

Almost at the same time, she heard a loud thud as the massive monster gave a single cry. With only that single cry, the monster that all of those adults had been fighting so desperately twisted and began to fall over.

“Hey, it’s going to land over there, so watch out.”

“Huh? What? Aaaaaaagh!”

Livio spoke to the stunned adventurers looking up at the monster as he cast his sword over his shoulder, as if he were warning them to watch their step on slippery ground. The tone and energy were deeply misaligned with the gravity of the situation.

Despite Livio’s nonchalant tone, the men realized that a massive shadow was falling over them and hurried away.

Just a moment later, the monster collapsed to the ground with a deafening thump.

“Sorry about that!” Livio called after the men. “It was bigger than I thought. I should’ve had it land a little bit farther that way. You’re not hurt, are you?”

“N-Not one bit, no...” one of the men replied.

“Sorry again. I was trying to make sure it wouldn’t collapse on the buildings.”

“No, don’t— Wait, what? Huh?” The man looked back and forth from Livio to the monster, eyes wide. Sophie wanted to give the man an understanding nod in reply. And just how do you even adjust the direction it collapses in? Sophie didn’t have the slightest clue.

Guess that’s normal, she thought, accepting what she’d seen. All of the well-built, iron-muscled adventurers, however, seemed to live up to their titles as adventurers and practically screamed, I’m as tough as they come! I’ve been through hell and back!

And yet, all of them were deeply shaken by this turn of events. Guess it’s not normal, then...

Well, normal or not, that didn’t matter; it wasn’t out of the question for Livio. He was the next head of House Warrion. He could do that and then some—he could defeat a massive monster and have it land in the direction he wanted with only a single blow, or rather, the sheer force that accompanied his blade. He could do that all without causing screams or spilling blood. It was simple, really. All Sophie could do was laugh it off.

“Now to hurry up and finish it off...” Livio said with his sword in the air, only to suddenly spin around. “Lady Sophie, this way!”

“Huh?”

Sophie turned around in shock. “There’s another one?!”

A second monster let out a bellowing squawk as the people around screamed and the scene plunged into chaos once more. Just how does a monster that big appear out of nowhere?!

Taken aback at this unpredictable turn of events, Sophie was just about to set up another defensive wall when she felt a disturbance against her magic.

“Huh?”

She felt a massive wave of concentrated magical energy cover the area, and realized that a transparent magical shield had been cast. Shocked, Sophie turned around to see Livio just as surprised, his eyes wide. This was no time to think about how beautiful his trembling blueberry eyes were.

The crack of lightning rang out twice, followed by two shrieks from the monsters in turn. The lightning fell in front of Sophie and behind her at the same time, tearing through both massive monsters. Sophie couldn’t help but cover her ears. The sound was so loud she thought the world might have been ending, but when all finally fell silent, Sophie found well-roasted birds in its wake, sending up wisps of smoke into the air.

“It’s like f-fried chicken...” someone stammered.

“Doesn’t look too appetizing,” someone else replied with a laugh. “The feathers are still on, and it ain’t even been prepped.”

Were they going to eat it?

“Lady Sophie!”

Distracted, Sophelia’s body began to sway, only for Livio to immediately rush behind her to hold her up. Emergency or not, she’d cast her magic far too wide as a novice, and without a staff to assist her. She’d pushed herself too hard, but Sophie let out a sigh of relief at the sense of peace that now enveloped her.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” Livio asked.

“How could I be?” Sophie replied with a laugh. “Thanks to you, I didn’t even have the time to get injured!”

Turning her face away, Sophelia looked up at Livio. With the top of her head pressed against him, she could hear the sound of his heartbeat. His pale cheeks were flushed red. This was the charming side of Livio that only Sophie knew.

“Welcome back,” she said.

“G-G-Good to be, uh, back,” Livio replied. He was cute...just way too cute.

His cuteness could very well have been a national treasure—so cute, in fact, that one could never imagine he was the same man who’d wielded an absurdly large sword to fell a gargantuan monster with a single strike.

“‘Welcome back’ has a nice ring to it,” Sophie went on. “That was the first time I’d ever said that to anyone.”

Sophie vowed in her heart that she’d say the same thousands and thousands of times if it meant she could lay eyes on that adorable face of his. Livio turned his head up, almost as if looking into the heavens.

The fact that she’d heard Livio reply, “You’re just so cute...” had likely been neither mishearing nor a product of her vanity. Sophie felt her cheeks grow warm.

Now then.

Lost in a carefree smile, Sophie returned to her senses when she heard a man bark out, “Lunetta!”

Sophie felt Livio flinch as he held her up.

“Livio...”

“We’d best run.”

“Okay.” Livio’s reaction confirmed that it wasn’t just her imagination after all. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. While she’d imagined that she might one day find herself in a situation like this, it had happened far too soon.

“Can you move?” Livio asked.

“Yes, I can.” She was a bit tired, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from walking.

Sophie nodded, only for Livio to set out walking while still supporting her.

We just have to get away for now, Sophie thought. But then—

“Hey! And just where do you think you’re going, huh?”

Livio froze in place as a black glove grabbed the hood of his robe.

“If you’re Livionis Warrion like I think you are, ya really shouldn’t let people sneak up on you that easily.” As the man gripped Livio’s hood, his lips bent into a grin. “Mind tellin’ me just what the eldest son of the mighty House Warrion’s doing in a small town like this with the daughter of House Lotus?”

Sophie felt her shoulders tense under the man’s piercing gaze.

Livio squeezed her shoulder with his hand as he spoke. “I think you may be mistaking us for someone else.”

“And just how am I supposed to mistake that dazzling mug of yours, huh?”

Livio remained silent.

Well, the man did have a point. In fact, the only other person Sophie could think of with such a stunning face was Livio’s mother, Adealyde Warrion. In other words, the only man with a face that beautiful was Livio himself. People with such otherworldly good looks were anything but common. The man was right—there was no mistaking him.

Almost ready to nod in agreement herself, Sophie felt another pair of eyes on her and looked around.

A young girl with long, black hair wearing a matching black dress was staring at the hand gripping Livio’s hood. She had large, single-lidded eyes and her eyebrows drooped down in a way that made her seem vaguely melancholic.

The girl tilted her head to the side. “Are you trying to extort him?”

“Like hell I am!” the man bit back, his voice as piercing as a bell. He wrinkled his brow in displeasure before releasing Livo’s hood.

The man bore a stubbly beard and had a rough-and-rowdy air of vulgarity about him. Looking at the man alongside the young girl, you could practically smell some sort of crime brewing. The pair seemed like they were together—a middle-aged man and a little girl. Despite having stopped Livio and Sophie, they started talking to each other as if they weren’t there at all.

“Lunetta, just how many times do I gotta tell ya to think about where you are before you go shooting off some big-ass spell, huh?!”

“I cast a defensive spell on everything besides the monsters,” the girl replied.

“That’s not the point! You try to defeat monsters without destroying them so you can get ingredients from them. And now look what you’ve done!”

“Ingredients,” the girl echoed.

“That’s the first thing you learn about getting rid of monsters, and don’t you forget it!”

The girl remained silent.

“How many times do I gotta tell you to speak up if you’ve got something to say? Don’t you get all mopey on me! I can see you’re sulkin’ clear as day!”

The girl, however, remained expressionless, despite the man firmly planting his hand on her head. Glancing at the two, Sophie and Livio locked eyes. Livio gave a quick nod.

Now was their chance.

Just as the two started to sneak away...

“Ggh!” The man grabbed Livio’s hood again.

“Hey now, no need to get goin’ in such a hurry, right? Let’s sit an’ talk for a minute, eh, big guy?”

Livio’s eyebrows twitched, making no attempt to hide the displeasure on his face.

“If you’ve got a complaint too,” the man said, furrowing his brow, “then let’s hear it, huh?”

Livio shook the man’s hand off him, only to produce a radiant smile instead. It was a truly beautiful smile, entirely pure and unclouded—a smile that no one could find fault with.

But behind that smile was an intense, overwhelming pressure.

Sophie was used to Livio’s beaming smile directed at her, but she realized that the smile she was seeing now was the type of professional, plastered-on smile he reserved for making threats. Sophie couldn’t help but feel she’d gotten a special privilege.

Livio turned to face the man, as he put his hand on his chest and bent down. “Complaints?” he repeated. “Why, I haven’t a one, Varroyce Elsarte Athkylos... Your Majesty.”

“Just as nasty as ever, aren’t ya...?” the man replied with a scowl. “You know I don’t wanna be called that around here. You’re doing it on purpose.”

“Who’s to say?” Livio said with a shrug.

Lifting himself back up and tilting his head to the side with a smile, Livio was positively stunning. The way his black hair swayed seemed almost sarcastic as his gaze fell across Varroyce—who was shorter than Livio—from above. Despite his words, Livio’s body language spoke eloquently for him, making it clear that he didn’t have so much as a shred of reverence for Varroyce.

Varroyce Elsarte Athkylos, the king who ruled over the neighboring country, breathed a heavy sigh and ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair.

“My name’s Vyce. And this here’s Lunetta,” the man replied sternly. “Well? And just what am I supposed to call you two?”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Livio, and this is Sophie.”

The man snorted and addressed the girl. “Lunetta, can’t you do anything about that?”

“About what?”

“Those monsters you burned to a crisp!” he bit back. “They’d be in the way if we just left them in the middle of town. Don’t you have a spell for a time like this? Something that could just make them go poof?” Varroyce—no, Vyce—pointed to the fried bird monsters with his thumb, making a difficult task sound as easy as pie, only for Lunetta to tilt her head back at him in confusion as her hair swayed alongside her.

“I could, but...”

So she could do it, then! The girl, who’d unleashed such incredible magic without even using a staff or incantation, gave her response as if it were nothing.

“By the way,” the girl continued, glancing at the monsters. “What are those monsters called?”

“They’re Kick Fitchers,” Vyce explained. “You didn’t even give them the chance to show off their bread-and-butter kick, though.”

Lunetta froze at Vyce’s remark. While she remained expressionless, the way she froze up as if she’d been struck by lightning was—at the risk of sounding insensitive—almost funny.

Vyce stared at the monsters the same as Lunetta. The adventurers and magicians who’d been locked in combat with the first creature had now formed a circle around it.

“I’ve never seen them get so large before, but...” Vyce went on, “you can make their feathers into a high-end bed and make their organs into medicine. Those claws and beaks could make weapons and armor too. Not to mention their meat’s got a bite, but it’s still tender and savory.”

As Sophie watched over the girl, Lunetta began to tremble.

“K-Kick Fitchers...!” Lunetta stammered. “Their organs can be used as ingredients in all manner of potions!”

“That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell ya!”

“Th-Those were Kick Fitchers...” Lunetta spun around, staring at the monsters—the Kick Fitchers—that she herself had fried. Her expression didn’t change in the slightest, but a tremendous sadness weighed down on her small shoulders, threatening to crush her flat any moment.

“I could’ve made that, and then that, and...” Lunetta went on. “I wanted to make all that...!”

“Which is why I told ya not to go just leapin’ into things!”

“But I came up with a way to summon lightning at minimum cost,” Lunetta explained. “Rather than summoning it from above, I opted to eliminate the gap by having it pulled to the ground with earth magic. I just wanted to try it.” Lunetta continued her explanation in detail, growing more and more depressed. Even though she knew about the monsters, it seemed she hadn’t known what they actually looked like. Rather than thinking about how they could be used for ingredients, she’d likely had nothing more on her mind than how it had been a wonderful chance to try out her idea. It was a common personality type among scholars—the type that would wind up in heaps of trouble unless they had someone keeping an eye on them.

So, I guess Lunetta’s watchdog is Vyce, then. It seemed like she tore past him when she cast that spell, though. She had at least been conscious of making sure there was no harm to the surroundings, not to mention that Vyce probably would’ve stopped her if it actually looked serious. Probably.

“Didn’t you know what sort of monster it was?” Vyce asked.

“Back there, we never have the chance to see them before they get dissected,” Lunetta replied. “The witch who wrote the book likely thought it needless...”

As she listened to the two of them talk, Sophie had a number of pressing questions tumbling around and spilling out of her mind, like if her identity had been uncovered, or what they’d do after this, or just what on earth the king of the neighboring country was doing here. But watching Lunetta look like she might sit down on the ground and make a puddle of dark matter beneath her—or rather, look so depressed she could collapse on the spot—Sophie couldn’t help but feel terribly sorry for her.

It was just a fact that everyone there had made it through the commotion without so much as a scratch thanks to the massive spell she’d cast. Not to mention the fact that Sophie had been just a little bit excited by the biggest spell she’d ever seen in her whole life.

And yet, in doing so, Lunetta had somehow wasted an incredible opportunity—and now she was miserable for it. Sophie wasn’t a fan of the word “pitiful,” but looking at Lunetta, “pitiful” was the only word that came to mind.

Sophie felt something akin to a protective urge to help rise up within her. But Sophie couldn’t do a thing. No matter how much she flipped through her mental dictionary, Sophie couldn’t find a single good idea. Her mental dictionary lacked the words to talk about monsters or to address a magician who was far more powerful than herself. She felt terribly powerless, sadness pressing in on her. Looking at Lunetta who seemed to sink before her very eyes, Sophie couldn’t help but sink into sadness herself.

Just as they were both sinking into their misery, Livio spoke up. “Uh...shall I dissect them then? Why don’t we take a look together to see if there’s anything of use?”

Lunetta spun around, her jet-black eyes beginning to glisten somehow. “Huh?”

“You know how to dissect monsters?” Vyce asked.

“It’s rather surprising that you can’t, Sir Vyce.”

“I normally have specialists take care of it.”

Livio blinked in surprise. It was likely a matter of common sense in House Warrion that you would be the one to dissect a monster you defeated. For the men of House Warrion, cooking and monster dissection might have very well been parts of their general education. While Sophelia certainly had her doubts as to whether or not those two subjects were of similar difficulty, it was all probably covered in some book titled Surviving in the Forest. Probably.

“Either way, let us take a look, Lady Lunetta,” Livio said.

“Is that all right...?” Lunetta asked. She was even smaller than Sophelia, but she looked up at Livio—far larger than she was—with an unwavering gaze.

“Of course it is,” Livio replied with a nod, giving her a kind smile. “After all, if I don’t try to cheer you up, Lady Sophie might wind up just as downtrodden herself.”

Sophie gasped, her chest practically screaming in delight. Oh. My. Gods. I like him. I like him so much! That kindness of his, those lines of his...they really weren’t doing her heart any favors. And just look at how cute he is when he smiles like that! I can’t stand it!

Hardly aware of herself, Sophie clutched her chest, only for Vyce to laugh in surprise beside her. “Oh, so that’s what it is.”

“A-Apologies for such a shameful display...” she stuttered, her cheeks growing red at the fact Vyce had seen all that.

Vyce lifted his eyebrows in curiosity. “What’s there to be ashamed of? That’s a good thing, y’know.”

That right there. That was the part of Vyce that made Sophie relax her guard around him before she even realized it. It was likely the same for Livio. Had he really wanted to run away when Vyce grabbed his hood, he surely could have. But the reason he hadn’t turned around until Vyce had directly told him to voice his complaints was likely because he hadn’t sensed that Vyce bore them any ill will.

“Your Majesty?” Lunetta asked.

“Go on,” Vyce shouted (slightly awkwardly) before waving his hand in the air. Lunetta’s eyes widened and lit up. She’s so cute!

Seeing Lunetta gave Sophie a different feeling than the party her heart and happy-go-lucky brain put on in face of Livio’s overwhelming cuteness; it was more of a warm, sweet sort of feeling in her chest. Sophie had never felt such warmth toward Lunetta when they’d met in official capacities, but now it brought an effortless smile to her face.

“Very well, Sir Vyce,” Livio said. “I shall entrust the matter of Lady Sophie to you, then.”

“I’m just gonna ask you straight up,” Vyce replied. “You’re not worried I’m craftin’ up some nasty plan?”

“Someone so conniving wouldn’t ask that question in the first place.”

When Livio laughed, Lunetta looked up at him and then at Vyce, before tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Are you crafting up some nasty plan?”

“Like hell I am!” Vyce bit back. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Oh.”

Vyce fell silent.

Sophie felt herself loosen up as she watched their banter, breaking into an unexpected smile. It was odd; even Vyce, with his brow furrowed in seeming discontent, seemed charming somehow. Her first impression when she’d met him at the castle years ago had been quite the opposite: What a terrifying king!

Indeed, Varroyce Elsarte Athkylos was the terrifying king of the neighboring kingdom. After staging an insurrection against his father and plunging the surrounding kingdoms into war before uniting them all under his rule with sheer military might, he had come to be known as the “Usurper King.”

He’d earned the name after single-handedly cutting down the vanguard. Then, covered in their blood, he’d left a trail of generals—each of name and note in their own right—beheaded in his wake.

Sophie didn’t have a shred of battle experience, but the fact that he had easily been able to sneak up on Livio proved his true strength. Had a gang of neighborhood thugs approached him with bared blades and said, “Why, Yer Majesty, just what’s a king like you doin’ round here, hmmm?” they would’ve been well on their way to the afterlife in only a moment.

And now that very same king was wearing light garb and laughing in a place like this. Sophie had never heard of him yielding to anyone. And yet...

“Be that as it may, if you were to lay one finger on Lady Sophie...” Livio started with a bright, beaming grin. Those beautiful purple eyes of his glistened like crystals as he gave a venomous smile. The expression was like a messenger from the dark, immensely terrifying and yet frighteningly beautiful at once. “No matter what I might have to do, nor what foe I might make along the way...I will make you rue the day until death seems a merciful escape.”

Sophie found herself breathless. That smile was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

Just as she felt her throat tightening up, she felt a large hand land lightly across her back.

“I’m only joking. No need to get so up in arms about it.” Sophie looked up to find Vyce smiling as if nothing had happened, his brow furrowed. Apparently, the expression was a habit of his. After lightly patting Sophie’s back, the hand immediately pulled away.

“I’ve no interest in your jokes, so I’d appreciate it if you refrained from making them,” Livio replied.

Vyce lifted both hands in the air in surrender. “Sorry ’bout that.” It seemed Livio hadn’t noticed that Vyce had touched Sophie’s back.

“We’ll be back,” Livio said with a shrug and smiled at Sophie before turning and setting off with Lunetta.

Sophie stared up at Vyce, who was somehow skillful enough to furrow his brow while he watched the two walk away with the hint of a smile on his face.

Vyce gave a small laugh. “So young.”

“How old are you, Sir Vyce?”

“Thirty-one.”

It was hard to say either way. He certainly wasn’t old enough to point at Livio and call him “young,” but he was certainly older than both Livio and Sophie. Not to mention that he lived as a king, so he had a level of life experience that neither Livio nor Sophie could ever hope to match.

The one thing Sophie knew was that when she had been overwhelmed by Livio’s stare, Vyce had urged her to calm down before Livio could notice and grow disheartened. In light of all that, Vyce was quite the gentleman.

Sophie looked up intently at Vyce, only for him to tilt his head to the side. “On that note... Let’s head inside. The innkeep’s been watching us for a while now.”

“Huh?” Sophie had forgotten in all the hubbub, but the inn had been where she and Livio had started out. They’d come outside after they’d heard a loud noise. The entrance to the inn was right behind her, and sure enough, the innkeeper was watching them with concern.

“You finally noticed me, did you?” she asked. “Your husband’s a strong one, isn’t he?”

“My h-husba...?” Sophie’s face flushed red as the innkeeper chuckled.

“Not to worry—your belongings are safe and sound. It looks like your friends still have some work to do though. What about you? Fancy some tea perhaps?” she offered with a bright smile.

Sophie looked up at Vyce. She hesitated for a moment, feeling that she couldn’t just spontaneously reply. While she was certainly curious about monster dissection, she was less than confident that she could keep her cool from up close. She hoped to do it alongside Livio someday, and she wanted to be able to tell him to leave it to her. But for now, she wanted to save all the blood and guts for another day. Today, she simply hoped to watch Livio and Lunetta work from a safe distance.

But no matter how honestly she might try to voice such, the man beside her was still the king of the neighboring kingdom. She couldn’t just leave him standing here. Just when Sophie was about to agree to the innkeeper’s suggestion—

“No, that’s fine. More importantly, think we could borrow a chair?” Vyce spoke first.

“Coming right up!”

A chair? Sophie tilted her head in confusion as the innkeeper brought out a chair and handed it to Vyce.

“Much obliged,” Vyce said.

The innkeeper gave a hearty wink. “Least I can do for the town’s heroes! Just let me know when you’re done,” she said, before vanishing inside.

Vyce took the chair the innkeeper had brought and placed it on the ground.

“Sit,” he said, looking at Sophie.

“Huh?” Sophelia stuttered back.

“You were one gust from collapsin’ back there, weren’t you?” Vyce answered. “Besides, you’re worried about him, aren’t ya? Sit down for a spell and let’s talk.” His face twisted in a way that seemed sinister when he smiled, but Sophie couldn’t deny how well he carried himself. Talk about a tricky combination! Sophie thought, her eyebrows drooping.

“I can’t just have a seat and leave you standing!” Sophie replied.

“We don’t need any of those formalities now, ya hear? It’s just ‘Vyce’ and ‘Sophie’ now. Only common sense for a man to escort a lady, isn’t it?”

While Sophie was terribly sorry to say so, she was unfamiliar with any “common sense” like that. After all, she couldn’t remember her father or her former fiancé doing a halfway decent job escorting her around.

And what of the other men around her? Being treated as the crown prince’s fiancée was likely a different beast altogether, and it seemed that most of the people were only concerned with the crown prince or Sophie’s half sister in the first place.

But of course, it wouldn’t do for her to go through all the trouble of actually saying that.

“Don’t group me in with those other idiots, got it?” Vyce demanded with a sneer.

Sophie couldn’t bring herself to ask which idiots he was referring to specifically.

Sophie’s eyebrows fell as she sank into the chair. It was stiff and wooden, and it made her posterior ache—not to mention the fact that it felt so odd sitting in a chair in front of the inn that she couldn’t really relax.

That’s what she thought, at least. But the moment her tired frame sank into the chair, she felt what strength she had left exit her body. It seemed she’d been more exhausted than she realized. Leaning against the chair’s backrest in an unladylike manner, Sophie was shocked by how marvelously relaxing it felt. Sophie had made a new discovery: Backrests were for resting your back.

“You and her both are a real chore, you know that?” Vyce said with a small laugh.

Looking up, Sophie saw the soft expression on his face as he watched Lunetta—though his brow was furrowed, as always.

“You mean Lady Lunetta?”

“You can drop the ‘sir’ and ‘lady’ business for me and her both,” Vyce replied. “Doesn’t feel natural. And I never was a fan of all that stiff and stuffy nonsense.”

“I’ll do what I must...”

Vyce crossed his arms with a laugh as his long hair swayed in the breeze. “You really helped out Lunetta at the party last evening.”

“Huh?”

Helped her out? Sophie tilted her head to the side, curious as to what he meant. Vyce laughed again. For a man with such a scary-looking face, he laughed more than one would expect.

“My fiancée has practically no experience in the outside world—certainly not at evening parties. She was pretty worried about coming with me on this trip too. But she seemed really happy—said you’d been really kind to her.”

For what it was worth, Varroyce Elsarte Athkylos had been unwed and unbetrothed for a long while. Before he came to be known as the “Usurper King,” his title had apparently been the “Foolish Prince.” At that time, Sophie had been young enough to count her years on one hand, so she hadn’t seen or heard all the details for herself; she had only encountered materials that mentioned him.

In his youth, Prince Varroyce had seldom made appearances in the castle, instead opting to venture down into the town to do business or make the town his playground. It was far from uncommon for him to start brawls, and he always had a new wound to show for it.

A number of reasons had been given as to why that same Varroyce had killed his father to claim the throne: He acted on behalf of the people who suffered beneath the weight of the government; he’d gotten greedy for more power; he’d gone into a fit of madness after his father had cursed him. Varroyce himself hadn’t denied any of the motives given, instead simply maintaining that sneer of his.

Any woman who would seek to be the bride of one whose smile seemed to drip blood was either tremendously brave, tremendously odd, or indeed, tremendously hungry for power. The king held the power to crush any such ambitious plots, never encountering anyone brave or odd enough. Indeed, he had grown somewhat famous for being an unwed king.

“Apparently he’s still single!”

“Figures.”

That was usually how the gossip went.

But then one day...

After firmly establishing his reputation as an unwed king, Varroyce had announced that he was engaged, sparking a frenzy from north to south. The ground itself had cracked open in shock somewhere—metaphorically. Regardless, that was the magnitude of the news of his engagement. It was massive news. By year’s end, it had become the story of the year that everyone had discussed countless times.

After all, the woman he’d presented was a mage from Magyck, land of mages...none other than the kingdom’s sixteen-year-old second princess. Between them was a gap of fourteen years.

The fact that the two of them together looked like a kidnapper and the young girl he’d swept away really got people talking.

And yet...

“Is her inexperience tied to the fact that no one had ever heard of a second princess in Magyck?” Sophie asked.

Indeed, not a single soul had heard of the second princess Lunatietta Dearbless.

“Clever as always, aren’t ya?” Vyce replied, furrowing his brow in seeming discomfort. “Don’t think I’m just gonna prattle on about her past. I won’t get into the details, but that’s about the gist of it.”

“The gist of it”? The gist of what? Well, whatever it was, it was probably enough to make anyone sick to their stomach. A princess—who no one even knew existed—who apparently knew nothing of the outside world, and certainly nothing of evening parties. Who in their right mind could believe such nonsense? Any normal person would simply say, “Who the hell could ever believe that?” and laugh it all off. Done. It would’ve been more entertaining for the listeners if the storyteller simply declared, “I’m actually a ghooooost!”

But Sophie didn’t laugh—couldn’t. After all, she knew full well that parents didn’t always love their children. Those who found the story unbelievable were the lucky ones who’d been raised properly. They were the ones living in the wholesome world where it was common sense for parents to love their children.

Yes, but even then—as terrifying and vexing as it might have been—a parent could kill their child, and a child could kill their parent.

Such tragedies were a matter of fact. If they weren’t, then Sophie wouldn’t have been sitting in an uncomfortable chair talking to the king of the neighboring kingdom, nor would Varroyce have ever been called the Usurper King and carved his way through the battlefield.

“Lady Lunetta’s quite fortunate, isn’t she?” Sophie asked.

“What?”

Sophie watched Lunetta cast a defensive spell in the distance. It was a massive barrier that completely covered the people and buildings while evading the Kick Fitcher carcasses. Following this, she cast a spell on Livio’s greatsword. The way her black hair glowed red and swayed each time she used magic was a thing of beauty. The bright red light of her magic fell across Livio’s blade as a sparkling white light—likely purification magic. The magic now covering Livio’s blade was designed to drive away corruption and impurity.

At once, Livio gave a mighty swing of his blade, as a thunderous gust sent the Kick Fitchers’ scorched feathers flying.

“Feathers” might have been too generous of a term. They were scorched black—practically ash. Even with the mighty gust howling and the scorched black shreds flying through the air, thanks to Lunetta’s defensive magic, the surrounding houses and people were entirely unaffected. Lunetta herself, of course, was staring at the Kick Fitchers with an air of unknowing innocence. The ashes dancing through the air grew transparent before finally disappearing altogether.

“I enjoy being with Livio,” Sophie explained. “There are all sorts of things I want to learn about and see and eat!”

As the gust settled down, the Kick Fitchers were left in a pitiful state—completely naked, in fact. It was an imposing sight; the monsters had now transformed into monstrously large roasted birds. The blackened feathers that had covered them had now been neatly peeled away and scattered to the wind, leaving behind a delightfully appetizing aroma in their wake.

Emotionless, Lunetta gave a round of applause.

“I know how lucky I am to be able to think so,” Sophie continued. “I know just how much of a miracle it is that I was able to meet someone who would make me feel that way.”

Lunetta calmly took out a knife and stabbed it into a Kick Fitcher. Perhaps that was what she was trying to use to dissect the creature. While the knife went in easily enough, it quickly got stuck. Lunetta gripped the knife, leaping up and down, but it wouldn’t budge. After a moment, her shoulders sank in defeat. The sight of it was so cute that Sophie couldn’t contain a small laugh.

“I’m quite fortunate too, after all,” Sophie said.

After a moment’s consideration, Vyce replied, “If you say so, then I believe you.”

There was something ticklish about how kind, soft, and upending Vyce’s laugh was.

“Yeah,” Sophie said, watching Livio say something to Lunetta from the edge of her vision. Lunetta nodded in response, only for Livio to leap into the air.

Though Sophie realized quickly that “leap” might not have been the correct word. More than anything, he leaped far into the air—too far. He leaped over a two-story building, so high that she could have called it flying. As he descended, he swung his sword down.

Though he stayed in the air so long he could’ve been flying, Livio’s blade moved so quickly that Sophie’s eyes could hardly keep up.

“Just as reckless as ever,” Vyce said, casting an entertained glance up at Livio. “Just where on earth are you ever gonna find another idiot who can land thirty cuts with a blade that massive that quickly, huh? That house of his is making monsters to this day...”

Doesn’t being able to see and count each strike make you a monster yourself? Sophie didn’t say that, however, instead watching Livio land without so much as a sound as his robe fluttered dazzlingly behind him.

Sophie gasped.

“He really is a monster...” Vyce said.

Sure enough, the Kick Fitcher’s meat floated in the air, cut into clean cubes just like a diced steak. Each chunk of meat fell down to the ground with a plop, spraying the surroundings with warm, steaming juices.

“Th-That looks delicious...!” a bystander said, wiping away their drool.

Now that Sophie thought about it, the meat of a Kick Fitcher was said to be quite appetizing.

“Um... Is it normal to eat monster meat?” she asked.

“Some of ’em are poisonous, but it’s pretty normal fare for adventurers. Hell, there are even restaurants specializing in monster meat in my country,” Vyce explained.

Well now. There was a big world out there. Sophie had again learned something new.

Looking back to the dissection duo, Lunetta was practically burying herself inside the Kick Fitcher—many times, no, hundreds of times larger than she was—as she examined its remains. She was likely searching for any organs she might be able to make use of. Part of Sophie was curious about just what sort of concoctions could be made from them. The other part didn’t want to know.

It was an appetizing chicken fillet now, but it had been a menacing bird monster not long ago. And she was going for its innards—its organs. How would she turn organs into potions? The thought of it made Sophie a little bit uneasy. But she was curious.

“Well?” A low voice addressed Sophie as she furrowed her brow in thought. “Just how did you get away in the first place?”

“Huh?”

“You’re eloping, aren’t you?”

“W-Well, um...”

It would have been just a bit too much feigned ignorance to ask him how he knew. But just how was she supposed to answer that?

Sophie cast her glance aside nervously, racking her mind. As the prince’s fiancée, she had been able to expertly dodge any such question no matter who asked it or where they were, but now the only thought her happy-go-lucky brain could muster was Eloping? Uh, maybe like the start of a romance? as it bounced up and down excitedly. Hey, settle down, you!

“I figured something was off last night, but this explains it. So that scream of yours was a fake.”

“It’s, uh...” Startled, Sophie realized that Vyce had been at the evening party. He’d heard that scream she’d given her all to produce.

It was embarrassing. Sophie was ashamed of herself, like she’d been dancing around in the nude, but there had actually been someone watching. She was a proper lady, so she’d never done anything so brazen as dancing in the nude, but she was so ashamed of herself she felt like joining Lunetta and burrowing inside the Kick Fitcher.

“Th-That scream back there, it was...” Sophie stuttered. She had screamed—that was no lie. However, it hadn’t been a scream of legitimate shock. But if she could lie about that part of it, she certainly would.

“Doesn’t really matter. The prince never deserved you in the first place. That young man back there should be just fine for you, though.”

Sophie unconsciously looked up at Vyce. “What?”

“Well, what’s the matter?” Vyce asked back, tilting his head to the side.

“D-Did I, um, make a mess of things somehow?”

“The hell?” Vyce gave a wide-eyed stare back at Sophie as she clenched the fists she rested on her knees. She knew full well that she wasn’t fit to be the crown prince’s fiancée or the next queen. She’d always known that, but it was the role Sophelia was meant to play. That was why she was alive. There was no way she could say it had been too scary and that she just couldn’t do it—which was exactly why she’d always been so terrified of how those around her would perceive her.

If one day someone were to look her straight on and tell her she wasn’t good enough, she’d—

“Don’t be silly.”

Sophelia looked up, lifting her gaze which had sunk to the ground. Vyce had made a tremendous furrow in his brow, now glaring at Sophie.

“You’ve got it all backward,” Vyce went on. “I’m saying you were too good for that brat. I don’t think choosing you for the job was a bad idea in theory. Unless you’ve got the ambition to manipulate your husband and rule the nation, you’re just asking for misery.”

Rule...the nation? Sophie blinked slowly.

“The thought never occurred to me...” Sophie answered honestly.

“The king would’ve set you on the path for that soon enough, wouldn’t he?”

Sophie thought it impossible, but even then, the reason that she couldn’t simply laugh off the idea was because she couldn’t even begin to imagine what was running through the king’s mind. The king, His Majesty King Leonell Fons Alvaeiu Rosehaste, was always an enigma to Sophelia.

After all, he’d seemed delighted when Sophelia would speak to him with documents in hand. While the other adults would mock her for being a child or a woman, Leonell had been the only one to ask, “And what’ve you to tell me today?” as he leaned forward to listen.

The number of adults who would listen in earnest to what Sophelia had to say were few and far between, so if she had to say, she didn’t dislike the time she’d spent talking with the king. Even if he were only using her, that was just fine. That was why Sophelia existed in the first place, after all. He would listen to her and smile. That alone was all she needed. Sophelia had no need to know what Leonell was thinking underneath that smile of his.

“When I first took the throne there were several kingdoms that tried to strike while I was weak,” Vyce explained. “But King Rosehaste didn’t get involved until the very end.” Vyce paused, in thought. “To be honest, it would’ve been a bloody mess if the Warrions had taken to the battlefield, but when I met the king for the first time, he told me he dislikes war because it harms national interests. He was probably serious too. I was scared all right.” Vyce’s face transformed into that of a king’s as he laughed at the memory—the face of a king who tore apart people and things, separated them, lined them up, and moved them.

“He probably meant that if he were powerful enough to wage a war without subjecting his kingdom’s people or finances to harm, he’d wage as many wars as he liked so long as it furthered the nation’s interests,” Vyce said with another laugh. “I’d much rather he put it nicely and just say he dislikes war.”

Sophie didn’t have a single word to counter Vyce’s claim, most of all because she herself thought that was probably the case. She’d never had the slightest idea what Leonell had been thinking, but all those near the king knew that the reason he protected and valued his subjects and their livelihoods wasn’t out of love or kindness or any other “nice” reason. It was because that was how a king ought to be—because he hated loss of any kind.

That was the unwritten law that governed the actions of His Majesty King Leonell Fons Alvaeiu Rosehaste.

“So if you don’t have any plans like that and you’re happy now, then what’s the problem?” Vyce went on. “It’s nothing for me to butt in about.”

“You’ll cast a blind eye, then...?” Sophie asked.

Vyce cocked his head to the side. “What would I even gain from selling you out, huh?”

There’s nothing but gain in it for you, Sophie thought, blinking. Sophelia knew many things about the kingdom and the royal family. Now, with King Leonell likely aware of her escape, Sophie wouldn’t be surprised if he sent men after her. That was why Sophie and Livio and Matcha had opted to take that path through the forest at night. In short, to Vyce, Sophelia’s whereabouts would have been a weighty enough trump card to put him in a position of power when engaging with her kingdom.

Clasping her trembling hand, Sophelia stared back at Vyce. “You’re the one who said I’m valuable, sir.”

Vyce cast a sharp-eyed glance down on Sophie. The younger Sophie couldn’t even hope to read the depths of his dark blue eyes.

Sophie hardly knew enough about Vyce to speak about him in the first place. She’d only met him a few times over the course of her official duties. While she thought he was trustworthy, even if he were to burst out in song before her, Sophelia’s only reaction would be to think, Oh, so that’s the kind of person he is! While she might have impressions about whether or not he was good at something and she might run away if she thought him too dangerous, her reaction would still be to think, Who would’ve thought that’s the kind of person he is! That was how little she knew of the man.

However, no matter how he tried to chip away at her guard by showing himself as a proper man, Sophie knew that this man was a king—a king who ruled and moved nations. Kings didn’t weigh emotions—they weighed what their kingdom stood to gain or lose. Kings were creatures Sophie knew well.

“You’re right,” Vyce answered.

Now just how am I going to get away from this king? Sophie thought, clenching her fists.

Just then, a spark flicked onto her with a snap. It was a hot, stinging sensation. Not even realizing she’d put her hands on her forehead, Sophie realized too late that what she’d felt was pain.

“Wh-When...?!”

“Who do you think you’re talking to, twerp?”

Before her very own eyes, Vyce stood with his hand in front of Sophie’s face, his thumb bent back.

Simply put, she’d been flicked. A forehead flick. Sophie blinked, finally understanding what had happened. Wow, that really hurt. It was the first time in Sophie’s life she’d ever experienced such a thing.

“Forcing a little girl to do something she doesn’t want to for politics?” Vyce asked. “How much of a low-down, filthy dog do you think I am? Is this really how you’re gonna act after I told you that you helped out my fiancée? Don’t be dumb!”

Vyce looked terrifying, sending Sophie into a panic. Not to mention she’d just implied that the king before her was a low-down, filthy dog. Insulting wasn’t even the half of it. And her forehead still hurt.

Despite it all, Sophie couldn’t hold back a smile from forming on her trembling lips. What? He was a good guy after all, this king!

“I am most grateful for your kindness,” she said.

“Shut it, you!” Vyce bit back. “I don’t wanna hear none of it!”

He did have a rather foul way of speaking, though.

“Um—”

“Sir Vyce?”

The voice that interrupted Sophie’s own was so low it seemed to emerge from the ground itself. It was the sort of voice that sounded tremendously heavy and mired in grime, as if it were being forced from a strangled throat.

Spinning around in surprise, Sophie found Livio standing there with a terribly dark smile plastered on his face. Wow, that’s scary. Like really scary.

He was handsome but scary. Scary but handsome. Sophie’s happy-go-lucky brain raised the white flag of surrender as Sophie felt herself being pulled away, then landed on Livio’s chest with a soft thump.

“And just what do you think you’re doing to my dear Lady Sophie?” Livio demanded. “I’ll slice you up, grind you down, and scatter whatever’s left across your tombstone.”

“That’s a lot of big talk from you,” Vyce replied, then looked to Sophie. “You sure you’re okay there?”

Sophie nodded several times at Vyce’s calm retort.

He said “my”! “My dear Lady Sophie”! Say it again! Say “My Sophie” again! Whoa, I can’t believe I’m not hallucinating! Sophie watched as a flurry of pink flower petals danced through the air before her. Oh, wait! Now that’s a hallucination.

“I made myself clear, did I not? Lay a finger on Sophie, and you’ll pay the price.”

“It was my finger. Just my finger!”

“I don’t recall agreeing to that. Why don’t I just go ahead and make mincemeat out of you to start?”

To start? After that he’d already be dead.

This is no time to be dancing in the clouds! Sophie thought to herself as she rushed to look up at Livio’s handsome face, stained with a murky darkness.

“Livio! Vyce was kind enough to compliment me! Please, you mustn’t get angry!” Sophie pleaded.

“I wasn’t complimentin’ you.”

Would it kill him to show a little bit of tact and just go along with it? No, that wasn’t what they needed now. Sophie was trying her best to calm things down, but Vyce was unbothered. Now I see! So this is what it means to be an unfazed adult! Sophie, however, was entirely too fazed by the situation to laugh. My bad for being a child!

“Your Majesty.”

“Hmm?” Vyce said.

Lunetta walked in and tugged at Vyce’s clothes, her heels clicking across the ground. She brought her hands to her mouth. Vyce squatted down and drew close.

She was probably sharing some bad news. Vyce further furrowed his brow. Livio had calmed down. Going from nerve-racking anxiety to breathing a sigh of relief, Sophie found herself terribly busy.

“Lunetta,” Vyce began. “Can you make a magic barrier to cover the town?”

“I already have,” she replied. “I formulated the spell to use my magic as a base but to slowly draw on the magical energy in the air afterward. The barrier would hold even if I were to sleep or die.”

“Die? Don’t bring us bad luck spouting off that sort of nonsense!”

Lunetta also found herself on the receiving end of a sharp flick to the forehead from Vyce, trembling in place as she clutched her forehead. Remembering the pain herself, Sophie put her hand on her own forehead only for a forlorn voice to address her.

“Lady Sophie?”

Sophie looked up to find a handsome face looking back at her sadly with drooped eyebrows.

“What did you say to him?” Livio asked.

“Well, I, um...”

The reason Vyce had laid a hand—more precisely, a finger—on her in the first place was likely because she’d misspoken. It seemed Livio had realized this. He was probably just worried that she’d said something unfortunate like Lunetta.

Livio’s beauty ran all the way to his heart, leaving Sophie in quite the bind. After all, she’d gotten that forehead flick for disparaging Vyce, but she certainly couldn’t go saying that in front of him.

“Well, I...” Sophie started, muddling her words.

“Hey!” Vyce said, looking up. “She asked me if I was goin’ to sell you two out to your kingdom, so I told her to can it with that nonsense, that’s all. Now, can we take this inside and talk?”

Sophie stuck her head out in surprise as Livio loosened his grip on her.

The massive chunks of roasted bird that had been there just moments before had now vanished without a trace, as if nothing had ever been there at all.

What was more, Sophie got the feeling that the buildings were in neater condition than before—even all the fallen bricks had vanished. Just what had happened in the brief span she wasn’t watching? It was unlikely some massive glutton had just demolished the meat in the blink of an eye. After all, there were a number of men who’d fallen to the ground in tears.

“The K-Kick Fitcher meat...!”

“And it looked so good too...!”

“The meat...!”

“My meat!”

Watching muscled men weep was—to put it bluntly—a strange sight. Is the meat really that good?

Sophie glanced at Livio. “What happened to the monsters?”

“It’s just that, you see—” Livio stopped his response midsentence, squatting down just like Vyce had, his handsome face now terribly close to hers.

H-His eyelashes are so l-long! Those blueberry eyes of his are like candies—no, gemstones! No, not gemstones—like a starry sky! No, not a starry sky—they are a miracle! Positively sublime. A masterpiece of the gods!

But that face truly was stunning. As Livio nimbly approached her ears, the nape of his neck enveloped Sophie’s gaze, a sight so seductive she might very well—

Hey, c’mon! Sophie barked at her brain as her thoughts crashed to a halt.

“What actually happened was...”

How many times had she told Livio not to whisper into her ear like that? Well...none. You haven’t told him that, Sophelia!

As if I could! Sophelia wanted to bite back. His voice is so nice and I can feel his breath brush against my skin! Sophie’s dear happy-go-lucky brain was gasping for breath. Hold up, I’m not planning on making a grave for you!

“...So I told Lady Lunetta that she ought to speak with Sir Vyce before trying to leave town as she did, but I think it best if we accompany them. Would that be all right? I’m worried about how it might go after they leave town as well...”

“Uh, um...yes.”

Sophie didn’t have the slightest idea what, exactly, she was agreeing to, but she decided to nod along for the time being.

“In other words, something strange had suddenly fallen over those monsters.”

After thanking the innkeeper for watching over their belongings, the group returned to their rooms. The brother and sister that the innkeeper had mentioned were apparently Vyce and Lunetta.

It made sense—after all, this was the only inn in town.

But calling them brother and sister? Siblings? Then again, they were just a bit too far apart in age to assume they were husband and wife. Vyce had more than enough presence, and Lunetta was small all the way around. They were complete opposites, so the misunderstanding was hardly surprising.

With that, after leaving their things in their rooms, the ragtag bunch made their way to Sophie and Livio’s. Vyce and Lunetta had borrowed a chair from the neighboring room, as there hadn’t been enough.

For what it was worth, the oversized desk in their room was covered with a mountain of food. The innkeeper had prepared a feast for the four who’d just made their way into town.

“Least I can do for the town heroes!” the innkeeper had said with a radiantly warm smile as she brought in the food. If there were a list of the hundred best inns, Sophie would vouch for this one’s place on the list.

“Those Kick Fitchers’ organs were practically nonfunctional,” Lunetta explained. “And what’s more, I felt something besides my own magic—something bad, so I cast my strongest purification spell, only for the Kick Fitchers to completely vanish without a trace.” The girl sank, crestfallen, her shoulders dropping. It seemed she was disheartened once more after having lost the materials that had seemed within her grasp. To Sophie, Lunetta appeared to be wearing the same emotionless expression as always, but it was like there was no fight in her eyes. Though Sophie couldn’t imagine the reserved girl being bursting with energy in the first place.

Sophie stared vaguely at the meat that had been prepared before them. “Purification magic is high-level magic that removes corruption and impurity, right?” she asked the dark-eyed girl. “In other words, that means that those bird monsters were so corrupted that they vanished away entirely.” Sophie finally understood what had happened—she’d listened to the details and put it all together. Lunetta nodded.

“The ‘corruption’ that purification magic targets can change alongside the spell itself, but at the fundamental level, it differs based on the way the caster imagines it,” Lunetta elaborated. “Magic’s far too complex to obtain the same results by simply following the same steps each time. I believe that a good deal of it revolves around how the caster defines the spell’s target. To the best of my knowledge, there are actually thousands of combinations of spells and conditions they are activated under, even for magic bearing the same effect. Compared to the results, the methodology behind them can vary based on both tribe and nation. I believe everyone has their own interpretation—a way of understanding it, perhaps—of just what magic is in the first place. For this very same reason, it’s only natural that the phenomena it can cause can vary so based on how it is imagined.”

“Lunetta, that’s interesting and all, but save it for after our meal,” Vyce said.

It was an interesting topic to Sophie, but it had already made its getaway. It had gotten so far away from the scope of her knowledge, it might’ve just set out on a journey to another country, sailing away across the ocean on a boat.

Lunetta seemed to catch herself, stopping in her tracks as she wrapped her lips around the words. “Our meal...”

“Eat up. And clean your plate!” Vyce demanded.

“Okay,” Lunetta replied with a small nod, opening her mouth wide for a bite of salad. Munching loudly, she looked up at Vyce.

“If you’re gonna look so proud of yourself, then do it after you clean your plate!”

“Mm-hmm.”

She looked proud of herself? To Sophie, Lunetta appeared completely expressionless, but apparently she was making some smug look. Just how on earth could he even tell?

Just what was this sensation? The fact that Vyce could understand all the differences on her expressionless face left Sophie feeling fidgety and excited. Her own romance was plenty of fun, but others’ romance was even more so. She had made a massive discovery.

“And?” Vyce urged.

Lunetta continued, “Okay, the magic I used was for removing poison or destruction. I cast the purification magic with the intention of returning it to its original form, but when I did so, both Kick Fitchers vanished. In other words, their bodies had been so ravaged by some evil magical force that they couldn’t go on existing once it was removed.”

After again being urged to eat by Vyce, Lunetta looked down and sank her fork into the potato garnishing her plate. Just how many people out there in the world could look so sorrowful when they were eating a potato? But come to think of it, those muscle-bound men who’d been sobbing earlier might have been eating right now, still sobbing away. In that case, the only ones rejoicing in the wake of the Kick Fitchers’ onslaught were probably those who’d had their houses restored with Lunetta’s purification magic.

Livio sat across from Lunetta, who was sinking into her seat as she ate the potato. “If you ask me,” Livio began, crossing his arms, “their size alone is an oddity. Out of all the monsters I’ve seen, the largest was the size of a one-story house at most.”

Didn’t that qualify as “massive” in its own right?

Hmm... Sophie thought back to Livio’s showdown with the Kick Fitcher. The Kick Fitcher that had screamed then had been tall enough to look down on a two-story house, and almost just as large across. It had certainly been far larger than a one-story house, so “oddity” was an apt description.

“Not to mention that the Kick Fitchers that roam in these parts should be small,” Livio went on. “It’s strange any way you look at it.”

Gulping down his ale, Vyce called Lunetta’s name as she busily munched away at her vegetables like a small animal. “That evil magic energy you were mentioning...can you follow it?”

“You mean trailing a foe, correct...? I’ve never done it before, but...I know how. It seems interesting, so I’d like to try.”

“Well that settles it, then!” Vyce said, placing his glass on the desk as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Me and Lunetta’ll take a look around town tomorrow. I don’t plan on sticking around here forever, but it’d be a pain if freaks like that showed up all the time. Even if we can’t figure out what caused them to transform like that, I at least wanna get a clear idea if we’ve got more of ’em nearby or not.”

“Good idea,” Livio said, nodding in agreement.

The three of them seemed like they’d be perfectly fine even if they did run into such a beast, but Sophie was too powerless to say anything. She tried to vaguely imagine the three of them surrounding a massive monster in combat, but she dropped her attempt since she’d imagined them fighting on different terrain than the town.

“We made our way here with the bare minimum, so would it be all right if we got our equipment in order as we look around town?” Livio explained. “I’m terribly sorry we can’t be of too much help...”

“Don’t sweat it,” Vyce replied. “I can’t use magic. All I do is just keep an eye on Lunetta so she doesn’t run wild.”

“‘Run wild’?” Lunetta echoed.

“You do, don’t you?”

“I’m quite confident in my control over magic.”

“That ain’t what I’m talkin’ about!”

The prodigious mage—with her expressionless, youthful face—tilted her head to the side in confusion.

Vyce sank his head into his hands.

Chapter Nine: Good Night

The weather was wonderful.

With his black hair swaying in the breeze, Livio adjusted the load he’d been carrying in his arms. It felt like it had been a tremendously long time since he had last walked around with his hair down and unstyled. He’d been working away without a break. After all, for the past three years, Livionis Warrion had done nothing but work and train every single day.

Indeed, the princess Livionis had offered up his heart to, the one he’d vowed to keep safe no matter what it took, had been betrothed to the crown prince. It had been a matter of fact to Livionis that he couldn’t risk a single day or even a few hours at her side.

All that was in the past now, though.

Livionis Warrion had cast his name aside, and now he’d won his place beside the person who meant more to him than anyone else in the world. The crown prince’s former fiancée was not simply a girl named “Sophie.”

The prince’s fiancée? That’s all in the past. Old news, see? It was just a fleeting nightmare they’d awoken from two nights ago. Forget about all that now!

Now, Sophelia von Lotus, the sad and lonesome queen-to-be, was nowhere to be found in all the land. Naturally, the woman he’d pledged his love to still lived within his heart as a queen-to-be. No matter what had transpired in those days, it was a part of what had made Sophie who she was, so Livio thought tenderly of the person she had been.

Livionis stared at the profile of Sophelia’s face from a distance. It was like the bright beaming sun. It was like the full moon that lit up the darkness. It illuminated Livio’s heart—scorched it with its searing light—as he fell in love over and over again.

Man, I love her. This is the best. I just love her so much. It doesn’t get any better than this.

Livio let out a long sigh and readjusted the load he was carrying, but there was still so much stuff. He’d been going to the stable and leaving the supplies with Matcha, but he didn’t feel like he’d made so much as a dent in the mountain of bags and boxes.

But paper bags were nothing compared to the stones he’d been made to carry on his back while running or the boulder he’d been forced to lug around. Far from it, even wooden boxes filled to the brim felt light to him. He was, after all, a knight. A former knight, that is.

“Former,” huh? That’s got a nice ring to it.

“Wow, that’s a lot you’re carrying there!” the innkeeper exclaimed in surprise when he returned to the inn. “You’re certainly stocked up, aren’t you?”

“They gave us plenty of free stuff in town,” Livio explained. “They’re all good-hearted souls.”

“Is that so?” The innkeeper laughed as Livio beamed. “They probably saw all the commotion yesterday. Not t’ mention you’re quite the looker, young man.”

Indeed, with each “Thanks for yesterday!” or “Wow, you’re so handsome!” his load had grown larger and larger. The paper bags had become burlap sacks and the burlap sacks had become wooden boxes.

While Livio could understand these gifts as simple thanks for defeating the monsters, he didn’t really understand why he was getting things for “being so handsome.” He knew that his face was the spitting image of his mother’s, but he didn’t have any idea why his face got him so much free stuff.

Because I’m handsome? You’d do better giving those bonuses to children out on errands, Livio thought, furrowing his brow. It’s our job as a society to build children up when they do a good job.

But Livio was a firm believer in taking whatever was offered, so he simply smiled, thanked them, and accepted the gifts. But after getting bonus gift after bonus gift, he’d begun questioning what a “bonus” was in the first place. Even after off-loading some of it on the young boy beside him who’d been sent to buy goods for his family, Livio still had more than enough.

On a sidenote, after sharing some of his gifts with the boys and girls he saw running errands throughout the town, Livio had told them that “angels will bring fortune to good boys and girls,” thus sparking a movement wherein children would happily offer their assistance to others. It had gone precisely as Livio had hoped, but that was a story for another day.

Livio, however, knew nothing of the future that lay in wait for the town. “If you’d like, why don’t you take this?” Livio said to the innkeeper, dropping the wooden box and handing her the bag he’d carried on his shoulder.

Inside, the bag was practically overflowing with apples. “Oh, I can’t take all that!”

“There’s so many I hardly know where to start,” Livio explained. “This is just a bit too much to be traveling with... Please, take them.”

Livio was neither the sort of apple fanatic who would eat an apple a day nor the odd eater with an appetite for apples exclusively. He liked apples as much as the next person, but first and foremost traveling with so many would have been too burdensome.

Simply put, the bag filled with nothing but apples had been yet another bonus gift he’d received. The innkeeper laughed, holding in her arms the bag so full that it seemed to upend the very concept of a bonus gift.

“Well in that case, I’ll just bake you an apple pie or something!” the innkeeper replied. “Your companion’s still asleep, right?”

“Thank you kindly,” Livio said with a nod and a cheerful grin.

Indeed, Sophie had been absent from the breakfast table that morning. Livio had been pale as a ghost with worry at the thought she might be ill, but Lunetta had shaken her head back and forth.

“She’s only sleeping,” Lunetta had explained. “After she wished me a good morning, she was right back asleep. She doesn’t seem to have a fever, so I think she’s just tired.”

Lunetta had paused for a moment. “I was the same way at first too.”

“Let her sleep,” Vyce had said as he stirred his soup. “You left in the dead of night and camped out, didn’t you? And it sounds like they were up late talking last night. It’d be stranger if a noble lady wasn’t exhausted after all that.”

Lunetta had nodded in agreement. “I cast a healing spell on her just in case. So even if something were amiss, she’s perfectly fine now.”

That’s right, Livio thought, remembering the morning’s conversation as he dropped off the bags in his room and placed the wooden crate at his bedside with a thump. Livio looked at the twisted sheets on his unmade bed.

Would it be okay if he went to see her face? Or would such a thing be out of the question for a gentleman? Not to mention he’d feel terribly guilty if he woke her up.

Livio stared at the empty bed as he racked his brain for answers.

That was right—Sophie was sleeping in the next room over. The two had used separate rooms.

Last night, they had split the accommodations between the lowlifes and the ladies, with Vyce and Livio in one room and Lunetta and Sophie in the other.

Livio and Vyce were stricken with disbelief when they saw the two beds in the room, meant for a married couple, had been affectionately joined together. Livio was likely the only knight to have spent the night in the company of a king. You’re jealous, right?

Even under such intimate circumstances, neither of them had the courage to disrupt the girls’ lively conversation about magic. After all, the two of them just seemed like they were having so much fun.

Livio didn’t have the skills to tell the variations in Lunetta’s expressionless face apart, but he could tell that her black eyes were glittering...and that she was an unstoppable chatterbox.

He’d seen the same sort of thing in his time with the Knights. One of his seniors was normally quite reserved, speaking only the very bare minimum when required. When the topic shifted to magic rifles, however, he could go on and on and on. “There’s no stopping a nerd when they’re nerding out about what they like.” That was how the knight had put it himself before he finally went on to make a living for himself as a magic rifle specialist. Bravo!

With Lunetta herself likely something of a magic nerd, Sophie beamed from ear to ear as Lunetta spoke, nodding and smiling and occasionally tossing in a comment over her own—which only encouraged Lunetta to go on. They seemed like they were having a good time—a blast, even.

Livio had never seen Sophelia speak to another person, let alone another girl, with such a broad smile. She looks like she’s having a better time than when she’s with me... Livio stopped the thought in its tracks as—oh, how to put it—some sort of unsettled feeling sunk into his chest.

“Looks like we don’t have a choice...” Vyce began. “Come with me to our room.”

“What? But that’s...”

“You got a problem with that?”

“No, I don’t, it’s just...!”

If he had to say one way or another, he did have a problem with it. How could it go from the heavenly opportunity to share a room with my first love to the lowly prospect of sharing a room with this old man? That was one hell of a fall. So far of a fall, in fact, that he might suffer compound fractures across his body—no, far enough for him to die on impact. No, no—that’s not what this is about!

It was about sharing a room with a king.

“It would be too, uh, brazen of me to impose like that...”

Too awkward, more like.

“Don’t sweat it,” Vyce replied. “Let’s go. I wanna get some shut-eye.”

Vyce turned to Lunetta. “Hey, Lunetta! Don’t forget to lock the door right after we leave, got it?”

“Huh? But I...” Livio stammered.

Indeed, Vyce hadn’t asked if Livio wanted to come to his room. He’d told him to come to their room. It wasn’t a question or a suggestion. It was an order. He wasn’t asking for Livio’s opinion or agreement. All Livio could do was nod.

There was nothing to be done now. Usurper King though he was, if he said he was no match for the sparkle in his fiancée’s eyes, then there was simply no way Livio could hope to win against Sophie as she happily waved the two off.

And now Livio stood worried in front of the room Sophie was sleeping in. According to Lunetta, the magical barrier that she had set for Sophie as she slept was designed to allow Livio and Vyce to enter the room unhindered, in case there was an emergency.

Livio furrowed his brow in deep thought.

According to the innkeeper, Sophie hadn’t been downstairs once, which would mean she’d been fast asleep the whole time. He was worried about her, but the two of them still weren’t so familiar with each other that he could simply march into a maiden’s room without a second thought.

After all their fumbling antics, Livio was finally able to call her by her pet name: “Sophie.” But isn’t that just an alias? In actuality, Livio hadn’t been pressed on the matter, but since he knew her real name and shortened it with love, that made it a pet name.

Maybe I should try knocking?

Just when Livio lifted his right hand—

The door slammed open.

Sophie came bursting out of the room in a panic, only for Livio to impulsively catch her in his arms.

“Livio!”

“Did something happen?” he asked in shock.

Sophie looked back up at him, her face flushed bright red.

Uh-oh. He’d looked at her up close.

She’s cute! So cuuuute! He’d never encountered such power. Accident though it was, Livio’s hands now rested on Sophie’s back—slender, soft, cute.

Livio clenched his teeth.

“I, uh, really overslept and...!”

“I see.” That was what it was? Livio smiled back at her. “You must’ve been exhausted. Hardly surprising. Did you rest well?”

“Like a baby...” Sophie trailed off. “But that’s not the point!”

Livio was certain Sophie didn’t know just how nice it could feel to fall back asleep for a second or even a third time. However, they’d talked about their plan to have Vyce and Lunetta investigate the outskirts of town while Livio and Sophie took a look around town as they shopped. Given Sophie’s strong sense of responsibility, Livio wasn’t surprised she was fretting so.

“Why don’t we go back inside, Sophie?” Livio said, tilting his head to the side.

“Ah, um, yes, that’s fine,” she replied with a nod so fast he was scared her slender neck might very well snap in two.

He felt a bit sad—just the tiniest bit sad—as Sophie slipped out of his arms. He followed her into the room. Just like the one Livio had slept in, this one also had two beds pushed together.

“Well then, I’ll, uh, put on some tea,” Sophie said.

Sophie’s pale green hair, the color of a fresh sprout, swayed behind her. It was unusual to see Sophie with her hiplength hair let down like that. On one hand, it was just as it had been that day in the garden, and on the other, it was completely new. Livio clasped Sophie’s hand, feeling a bit strange.

Sophie looked at her own slender fingers, now resting in Livio’s hands, and blushed. She’s too cute.

“Is this your bed, Lady Sophie?”

“Huh? Yes, it is.”

Livio sank down, gently pulling Sophie’s hand with him, only for Sophie to weightlessly fall onto the bed.

The bed’s cheap springs creaked as they sank down, but Sophie’s eyes grew wide nonetheless. With those caramel brown eyes right before him, Livio’s heart leaped in excitement.

If Livio had been the sort of gentleman who could remain perfectly calm falling on a bed alongside the woman he yearned for, he would’ve never run away with her in the first place. Being the barbarian that he was, however, Livio’s heart was in utter disarray, stomping upon the ground as it lifted its hands to the heavens and offered up a celebratory dance to the gods for the miracle before him.

On the outside, though, Livio simply smiled. “It’d be a good idea to get used to not doing anything, Lady Sophie.”

Sophie’s eyes—those perfectly round eyes he’d fallen in love with—seemed to shake.

“You’ve worked so hard until now. You don’t need to do anything more, you see? Take your time and rest. All you have to do is be here, eating well, laughing, and sleeping like a baby every day. That’s enough.”

Who cared if she overslept? She could sleep as much as she liked. And who cared about making tea? He could do that much on his own. If Sophie were to make tea herself, he was certain it would be delicious, and it would certainly be fun to walk around town together. But they could do that any time. If they didn’t do it today, there was always tomorrow. If it wasn’t tomorrow, there was always the day after that. After all, their journey together had just begun.

That was precisely why Livio wanted Sophie to live a life unburdened. And then, if possible, he hoped to see her live that life by his side. Livio only hoped that she might make his enduring wish a reality.

“B-But that’s absurd!” Sophie replied. “As long as you live, you have responsibilities and duties to fulfill. If you never accomplish anything, you’ll never gain anything either!”

“I see,” Livio replied with a nod, looking at Sophie’s small face now painted with confusion.

She certainly wasn’t wrong. In exchange for letting guests stay, inns collected money from them. Once they’d paid, those customers would seek a good night’s rest. It just made sense.

“In that case, that means that I have to pay the price for having someone as cute as you by my side,” Livio said.

There was no way that a girl as adorable as Sophie would ever stay at Livio’s side if he simply lazed about. If he wanted her to smile at his side, then he would have to pay a price worthy of such an honor. If that were the case, then he’d just have to make sure Sophie never had to lift a finger.

That’s my Sophie all right! Livio thought with a smile. The way Sophie opened and closed her mouth as she desperately tried to argue her point was absolutely adorable. I’m bound to be the only one to ever see her like this. The thought alone was enough to drive Livio wild with joy. She’s so cute! And I’m so happy! She’s just too cute!

“You’re just so cute.” With how sloppy he looked when he laughed, Livionis’s face had to look even more distorted now. You’ve gotta get it together! Livio scolded himself without much luck. But she might be disappointed if she thinks I’m a mess. What’ll I do if I get on her bad side?

But even then, the way Sophie’s face had grown bright red as she tried to swallow something down was entirely too cute, so Livio could only wish she’d say something—anything—back to him.

If she thought he was a poor excuse for a handsome knight, he’d rein himself in, and if she said she liked the cold, unaffected type who never smiled, then he’d never smile again. He’d do anything for her. He’d give anything for her.

He’d been prepared to do that for a long, long time.

“You don’t have to endure anything anymore,” Livio said in a wishful whisper. “Please, just tell me what you want.”

Sophie’s caramel eyes trembled captivatingly, as tantalizingly sweet as honey. Livio couldn’t help but want to draw his lips close for a taste of their sweetness. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Sophie. Watching him cry had to be the last thing she wanted to see. Livio closed his eyes in spite of the fact that his heart was leaping at the sweet force squeezing at his chest.

“I’m feeling sleepy.” It went without saying that this was an outright lie. Could he even sleep? At a time like this? As if!

He couldn’t sense so much as a trace of the sandman’s presence. Even if he were to try to call the sandman to his side, the sandman would likely just pretend not to be there or like he hadn’t heard anything at all—just as Livionis had whenever his father had called for him. Livionis’s heart was making such a racket that the sandman would probably refuse to come anywhere near Livionis, instead opting to go to bed himself.

After all, Livionis was a man. His face was the spitting image of his mother’s and he’d often been reminded of the femininity of his face, but he was a man. He was a respectable young man from House Warrion, using the massive frame he’d inherited from his father to swing his blade.

Livio was neither kind nor purehearted enough to simply turn over and fall asleep beside the girl he liked, which was precisely why he had to wrestle his urges to the ground with the holy, barbaric strength he’d inherited from both his mother and father.

“You’re not allowed to get up,” Livio announced. “Your job now is to just stay still until I wake up.”

That was one hell of an act he’d be putting on! As if he could sleep like this! There was. Absolutely. No. Way.

Just when are you getting up?! And just when are you going to sleep? The thought was certain to have crossed Sophie’s mind as well.

Pressed against Livio’s chest as she was, Sophie had likely noticed Livio’s heart thumping around as it danced in his chest. Oh man, how embarrassing! The thought that she’d caught on to his farce of exhaustion was too much for him. His face was burning with embarrassment, flames radiating from his face with such force that they might’ve engulfed the whole inn.

But by this point, Sophie had to have a sense of what was going on. Livio’s princess, so kindhearted it almost stung, wasn’t the type to just coldly ignore another’s feelings. He wished she could live just a bit more freely—to follow her heart wherever it led her. But despite wishing such, Livio had his reservations about making use of Sophie’s disposition in such a way.

But even then, Sophie gave a pleasant, lighthearted laugh.

A tear had almost made its way down Livio’s face, but he decided to keep that a secret.

“Good night.”

Side Story I: The Magic Words

“Oh no, whatever will I do?”

Those were the magic words.

Magic though they might be, Merlina was no mage. Swords and magic and whatnot were just too scary. In Merlina’s opinion, it wasn’t good to rely on violence. Fighting meant nothing but scary things.

Wouldn’t everyone be far better off if they considered peace instead? I don’t really know why they haven’t... Maybe I just haven’t thought about it enough. It’d be ever so nice if they could just talk out their problems. That was what Merlina thought every time she saw adventurers, or soldiers, or knights out and about in town.

After all, for Merlina it was always a matter of saying, “Whatever will I do?”

“I’m thirsty—whatever will I do?” “I don’t have the money for this dress—whatever will I do?”

“Whatever will I do?” “Oh, whatever will I do?”

That was all it took for her every wish to be granted. If she so much as muttered those words to herself, she got it all: tea from the royal family’s appointed tea maker, stunning dresses, and even her wonderful husband and adorable daughter. All of her wishes came true.

Someone always came to Merlina’s aid.

People were kind, noble creatures. And Merlina loved living in a world filled with kind people. It was peaceful every day. She was happy every day. Every single day was filled with nothing but fun! If Merlina let out a lighthearted laugh and smiled, everyone would always smile right back at her. Everyone loved Merlina.

But her husband’s daughter wasn’t kind to her—not the least little bit.

Merlina had been shocked. It was the first time she’d ever encountered someone who hadn’t treated her kindly. It was impossible. There was just no way. Maybe it was a misunderstanding? Maybe she wasn’t feeling well? Or perhaps she just happened to be in a bad mood?

While Merlina was hurt each and every time his daughter had looked at her with those cavernous eyes or cast an empty, entirely unfelt smile at her, Merlina had tried her best to remind herself: Oh, it’s just a matter of time. She’ll come around. It’s just a matter of time.

But no matter how much time passed, her husband’s daughter Sophelia never once showed Merlina any kindness at all. Not a bit. Not even a smidge. She’d put up an iron wall against Merlina. How is that even possible?

Whether Merlina invited Sophelia for a cup of tea or to go out shopping, the girl would always refuse with a faint smile, saying she had her studies or her work to attend to. Just what on earth was that plastered-on smile anyway? It was terrifying. But more importantly, studies aside, she said she had work to attend to? Work? Where did she come up with such a lie?

After all, Sophelia was just a ten-year-old girl, not even a year older than Merlina’s own daughter. Merlina’s precious little Lilina detested her lessons and studies and needlework. It took a mountain of treats like candy and stuffed animals just to get Lilina to sit down in her chair, yet Sophelia said she had work of all things! Merlina didn’t know if it was charming or cheeky, but Sophelia had told her an obvious lie, a sign of such contempt that it brought tears to Merlina’s eyes.

It was a terribly shocking affair to Merlina, who’d never once been hated by anyone. But even then, children made mistakes—that was just in their nature.

Even Lilina would sometimes look away or hide her assignments from her tutor behind her back and claim she’d already done them. It was so terribly cute that Merlina couldn’t help but want to nuzzle her and give her a kiss on the cheek. But lying was no good. Her daughter was cute, though.

“Oh, whatever will I do with you?” Merlina had said with a sigh, tilting her head to the side.

Seeing her mother’s distress, Lilina had immediately apologized. “I’m sorry for telling a lie, mother!” she’d said, as a tear fell down her cheek.

Oh dear! That cute face of hers!

Without so much as a moment’s delay, Merlina had embraced Lilina, stroking the girl’s head lovingly. “Oh, you’re such a good girl, doing the right thing and apologizing!”

Lilina might get into a bit of mischief, but she really was a good girl who knew how important it was to reflect on what you’d done and apologize. That was how children learned right from wrong and grew to become responsible adults.

So Merlina simply smiled, sure that Sophelia would also apologize right away, and if she did, Merlina would hug her and stroke her head and take her out shopping. Sophelia was pitiful, always wearing dresses that were out of style. Through the tears in her eyes, Merlina saw Sophelia looking up at her.

That’s right. She’s just a pitiful little child. Merlina was certain Sophelia was trying to get her attention by telling lies like that. She was no doubt jealous of her sister, Lilina, and how well she got along with her parents.

Thinking about it that way made even Sophelia’s plain face look cuter. Sophelia was, at the end of the day, Merlina’s daughter.

Reassuring herself, Merlina wiped away her tears and knelt in front of Sophelia, before looking the girl in the eyes. “Sophelia, my dear? You know that liars wind up all alone, don’t you?”

And yet—

“What?”

That was her response.

“What?” What? Is “what” all I get now? Merlina was paralyzed with shock. The mere thought of it! That words could fail her so!

The girl was still only ten years old, but it appeared she’d already been warped. “What?” That was the only word that had come out of her mouth. What sort of attitude is that to take when an adult’s trying to have a serious conversation with you?!

“Sophelia, you’re—”

“Um, I’m terribly sorry, but I have an audience with His Majesty the King. I mustn’t be late, so might we continue this afterward? If you could inform me of your plans for tea or shopping in advance, I would be happy to make room in my schedule.”

“Dear me...!”

What nonsense! The king! The girl claimed she had an audience with the king! Merlina knew that Sophelia was engaged to His Highness the Crown Prince, so had she said she were meeting him, Merlina would’ve been able to believe her. But to think she’d bring out His Highness’s father! How irreverent!

Merlina was so shaken she could’ve fallen over, but she steeled her resolve and locked eyes with Sophelia again.

“Sophelia,” she began, “you’re lonely too, aren’t you?”

“Huh...?” Sophelia’s eyes opened wide. Those perfectly round eyes of hers now looked up at Merlina in disbelief. Sophelia always put on a quiet, grown-up smile, but now her childish face seemed just the tiniest bit charming. She was probably shocked that Merlina had seen right through her.

It’s all right, dear! I know just what it is. You’re so lonely you can’t bring yourself to be honest about it. You wanted someone to notice, so that’s why you were being bad! Merlina wasn’t about to cast a blind eye to her daughter. Merlina was her mother, after all.

“It’s okay, my dear! I love you too!” Merlina said.

“I, uh, um—”

Merlina tightly wrapped her arms around Sophelia, only for Sophelia to frantically squirm in her embrace. Perhaps she wasn’t used to being held. Merlina’s heart ached with pity for the poor girl.

Her husband, Wilson, had said that Sophelia’s mother had been the difficult type: cold and proud without the slightest hint of charm. “She’s quite the opposite from you,” Wilson had said with a smile.

At the time, Merlina had thought he’d been exaggerating, but perhaps it wasn’t entirely untrue. Merlina was certain Sophelia’s mother had acted with such coldness toward Sophelia herself.

In that case, it’s my job to raise Sophelia into a proper good girl!

Merlina felt herself burn with a sense of duty as the lady of House Lotus—only to be pushed off a moment later.

Huh? Just as the thought crossed her mind, Merlina fell on her backside with a thud. Merlina looked up, only to find Sophelia staring back at her in shock.

It went without saying that Merlina was startled. She hadn’t dreamed she’d be pushed away like that! To think that such a thing could even happen! But more than any of that, Merlina was stricken with grief.

To think the girl’s been hurt so gravely! Merlina’s chest grew tight with anguish at the thought.

“I’m, uh, truly sorr—”

“It’s fine, my dear,” Merlina replied. “I startled you, didn’t I?”

“No, it’s just—” Sophelia said, her gaze wandering away.

Sophelia looked about as Merlina extended her hand once more in an effort to tell her to think nothing of it. But Sophelia took a quick step back, leaving Merlina’s hand waving in the air.

Perhaps she thinks I’m mad at her? Merlina thought with a blink as Sophelia began rustling through her satchel. A girl of nobility, carrying around a satchel like that? How unbecoming! Come to think of it, where are her ladies-in-waiting? Has she left them behind to just wander around? I’ll have to scold her about it later.

Merlina blinked, only to be shown a bundle of papers. She blinked once more.

“I’m, uh, truly sorry,” Sophelia began. “I do apologize for being in such a rush and pushing you away, even though it wasn’t my intention. But I am set to show His Majesty these documents, so might I please ask that you allow me to pass?”

“Y-You...!”

It was a thick bundle of papers bearing the title “Three Proposals for the Meeting with the Neighboring Kingdom” on its cover. Having spent each and every day with her adorable little Lilina, Merlina could tell right away that the writing on the cover wasn’t a child’s. After all, Lilina’s own writing could best be described as an earthworm squirming about to escape some terrible fate.

Why, if that writing isn’t neater than my own! And to think that had been written by a ten-year-old child? Absurd. And that wasn’t all—just what was that business about a meeting with the neighboring kingdom? And proposals?

“What sort of daughter are you, stealing documents from your father to support your lies, hmm?” Merlina demanded, instinctively snatching and flipping through the papers.

“Give those back!” Sophelia exclaimed, reaching out with both hands. “They’re important!”

“Yes, they are. Which is why I’ll be returning these to your father. It’s all right, dear—if you apologize, I’ll keep this our little secret. Come now, dear, say it,” Merlina continued, pouring her heart into her words. “Say ‘I’m sorry.’ You can do that, can’t you, Sophelia? You’re a smart young girl, aren’t you?”

She wholeheartedly wanted Sophelia to understand her—to trust her.

Sophelia fell silent and cast her gaze to the ground before finally looking up at Merlina.

Her eyes. Her brown eyes looked back at Merlina with nothing at all out of the ordinary, but for some reason, a terrifying chill raced its way down Merlina’s spine. Was this how she looked at her parents? At all adults?

“I’m...truly sorry for what I’ve done, mother.”

Though she’d been taken by an unease of unknown origin, Merlina felt a wave of relief when she saw Sophelia hang her head in apology. Oh, good! I’ve finally gotten through to her! No matter who it is, so long as you pour your heart out talking to them, you can always come to understand each other!

“As long as you understand, that’s all that counts.” Merlina gave Sophelia a heartfelt smile as Sophelia slowly lifted her head. The girl’s brown eyes had returned to their usual quiet shade.

Just what was that back there? Merlina thought, tilting her head to the side. Sophelia had called her “mother.” Regardless, Merlina felt relieved.

“What’s wrong, dear?” she asked out of the kindness of her heart.

“I’ll return those documents to father’s study,” Sophelia replied. “If they’re returned to the wrong location, it’ll cause problems for him, and I’m sure he’ll find out that I took them. You’ll keep it a secret, won’t you, mother?”

“Yes... I suppose I will.”

What was the word...? Merlina thought for a moment. It was like Sophelia was, oh...impertinent, that was it. She felt guilty for thinking such, but the girl’s attitude wasn’t cute at all. But no, she’d certainly put that little head of hers to use. Merlina didn’t feel anything childlike at all from Sophelia. If she had to say one way or another, it was more like Sophelia was playing at being a child instead.

No, no, that’s no good. I can’t go thinking something like that, Merlina thought, shaking her head.

“All right, very well then,” she replied. “Put them back right away. And would you call Lilina? We can all go shopping together.”

“Of course!”

Yes, now that was a good answer. That’s right. That’s how answers should be. You can’t just say, “What?” back to someone! Ah, I’m so glad you’ve had a change of heart!

That was what Merlina thought, at least. But shaking off her misgivings and breathing a sigh of relief at Sophelia’s energetic answer turned out to be a mistake, because the next moment, the second Sophelia held the documents, she sped away.

How unbecoming of her! Sophelia raced past Merlina before she could even be scolded. Hey, wait! Wait up! Hey, she’s so...far! How’d she get so far?!

Flustered, Merlina tried to chase after Sophelia but couldn’t gain so much as a step of ground on her. No matter how poor her family had been, Merlina was still of noble birth. She’d never needed to do something as barbaric as run around, so it took every bit of her effort to keep from tumbling over—not to mention the expensive dress and high heels she wore weren’t suited for running about. I just can’t do it! I’m at my limit!

Merlina hadn’t even made it to the hallway before she collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

“Mother?!”

Passing through, Lilina noticed her mother sitting on the ground before hurriedly running to her aid.

“What happened, m’lady?” the lady-in-waiting with Lilina asked Merlina with a worried expression. Merlina’s own lady-in-waiting, who’d desperately rushed after her, also lent her a helping hand, huffing and puffing with sweat on her brow.

Merlina burst into tears at their kindness.

What a terrible child!

Merlina couldn’t stop crying.

That evening, after having exhausted herself from crying, Merlina was resting in bed when her beloved Wilson returned home.

“Are you okay?” Wilson asked kindly, only for Merlina to burst into tears again at his kindness.

“It seems Sophelia just outright hates me!”

“Don’t worry me like that,” Wilson said, gently caressing Merlina’s cheek. “The girl’s a poor excuse for a daughter. She’s just like her wench of a mother. The way she looks, the way she talks, the way she carries herself—just catching a glimpse of her is enough to make my skin crawl, but since she’s engaged to the crown prince...I can’t very well throw her out either.”

“Dear, don’t say such terrible things!” Merlina replied. “She’s your daughter too, isn’t she?”

Wilson gave an unpleasant laugh. “My daughter?”

Whenever he’d speak about Sophelia’s deceased mother, Wilson always made this sort of face. Merlina didn’t like that face. That face made her wonder just where her kind and sweet Wilson had vanished off to—it was the face he made when he was thinking of someone other than himself.

“I hardly consider the girl my daughter,” Wilson said with a scoff. “She’s just here, that’s all. But she does have her uses. That’s why, Merlina—and I’m sorry to ask you to endure such—I hope you’ll put up with her.”

“Oh dear, endure?” Merlina asked, blinking.

Endure? Merlina had never done such a thing in her life. Wilson had always been kind to her, always showing her heartfelt consideration.

While the fact that he’d been someone else’s husband when they first met had been the tiniest bit unpleasant, he was a noble, after all. All nobles fell into their fair share of marriage traps. Seeing Wilson struggle beneath the weight of his house and a marriage he never wanted, Merlina had always thought he was pitiful. All she wanted to do was grant him just a bit of relief.

“While it was hard seeing you go back to her, you came back here for me, didn’t you? I’m so happy it’s almost frightening,” Merlina said.

“Merlina...”

Sophelia’s mother’s death had been an accident, apparently—a tragedy on her way back from a tea party. Word had it that the horse had suddenly gone wild as she was trying to climb aboard the carriage. What on earth had she been doing for a tame horse to go wild like that? As a proper lady, Merlina had her own reservations about the situation. And that’s why Sophelia grew up as she did. Oh dear, how terribly pitiful!

“Say, Wil... I want to raise Sophelia up to be a proper lady, but I just can’t get through to her. Whatever will I do...?” Merlina sniffled as a tear stole down her cheek.

“You truly are a magnificent woman,” Wilson said as if in a trance, color filling his cheeks.

“Dearie...” Merlina replied, gripping the audacious hands caressing her face. Merlina loved his hands—the rugged, hardened hands of the man who upheld the weight of his family’s name.

“I’m the one in the wrong here,” Wilson went on. “I’ll do my part with the girl as well... Even then, she won’t listen to a word I tell her, so it won’t do much good. I’ll just have to be more forceful with her.”

“Oh dearie, I’m not a fan of anything painful like that!”

“It’s for her own good. Don’t you think?”

Did she think so? Maybe it is for her own good. It has to be.

Merlina nodded. After all, she had never encountered a child so unwilling to listen to others, so cunningly clever—a child that would even resort to violence. A gentle hand wouldn’t be enough to mend such a child’s warped ways. Merlina was the lady of House Lotus—she had to do it.

“Challenging as it may be, I’ll give it my best.”

“Thank you, Merlina.”

And yet...Merlina’s resolution was all for nought.

Sophelia didn’t change in the slightest—not one bit. She didn’t change a bit, an ounce, or a fleck. Each and every time Merlina invited her out, she continued to plaster on that doll-like smile and tell lies about how she had her studies or her work or her training day in and day out.

There was just no way she had to study every single day like that. And what was her “job” even supposed to be? And training? Indeed, apparently Sophelia had been “training” by running about the courtyard. No wonder she’s so fast. Merlina found herself unsurprised to learn such. But that’s not ladylike at all! And just how will she ever serve as the crown prince’s fiancée with such a habit? Merlina was sick with worry.

With the situation being what it was, Merlina scolded Sophelia, but she always felt as if she were too late. Even when she invited Sophelia out shopping, the girl’s response was “If you could’ve given me prior notice of your invitation, I would’ve been happy to make arrangements in my schedule.” Her words were barbed—not cute at all.

And more importantly, Merlina had felt like going out now. How was she supposed to know how she’d be feeling tomorrow until it actually was tomorrow?

But even then, that wasn’t really the root of Merlina’s frustration. She was upset by Sophelia’s lies and less than ladylike behavior. And so, at Wilson’s urging, Merlina hardened her heart toward the girl. It had to be done—it was for Sophelia’s education.

So when Lilina declared that “His Highness said he likes me!” in a rose-colored trance with her cheeks filling with color ever so charmingly, Merlina wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

After all, her daughter was cuter.

Lilina had truly grown into a wonderful, proper lady. She was charming, refined, and kind to all she met. When she accompanied Merlina to tea parties, she always drew a crowd of men and women, both young and old. What a splendidly charming, wonderful daughter she was! Merlina had never seen such a stunning lady in all her days. She took after her mother, you see!

It all felt wonderful—absolutely magnificent. Merlina was beside herself with happiness.

Compared to the likes of Sophelia, who could barely get through her monthly tea parties with the prince, Lilina proved quite the opposite! If His Highness longed for Lilina, who could possibly blame him? Oh, but it’s just so terribly disheartening! Marriage was no simple matter for nobles or the royal family.

“I want to make her wish come true, my dear,” Merlina said, tearfully confiding in Wilson. “I want her to feel the same happiness that I feel when I’m with you, Wil. Whatever will I do...?”

“I understand, dear,” Wilson replied. “I’ll try talking with His Highness. If he takes Lilina as his betrothed, we can finally rid ourselves of the girl. But you must understand, Merlina, it won’t be easy. You do understand, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course I understand, Wil.”

“I’ll do something about this, so just wait until the time comes.”

“Thank you, Wil.”

Oh, Wil! I knew I could count on my beloved!

As Wilson embraced Merlina, she didn’t doubt him in the slightest. And why would I? Wilson’s always loved me and me alone, and he’s given me a treasure in Lilina. And he really did make me his wife!

The three of them laughed together every day, surrounded by kind ladies-in-waiting, with a crowd of maids and butlers taking care of them. Merlina was truly happy.

She had been happy...at least, up until just a bit ago... Until just a few moments ago.

“You fool, what’ve you done...?!”

She had been happy. She’d never heard Wilson shout nor seen him look at her in anger.

They’d all been invited to a party held by the royal family. Wilson and Merlina had danced together through a number of songs. Many had confessed their jealousy of Merlina and Wilson’s relationship. She had been happy...

...until Lilina had been found entangled with His Highness the Crown Prince.

“W-Wil, you—!”

“Silence, you brazen whore!”

Merlina heard a smack. And then a thump. Her legs gave way beneath her as she collapsed onto the sofa in utter astonishment.

Huh? A smack? Did I...? Did I just get...hit? Hey, no, wait. Hold on. Wait. That would be just like—

“I told you to wait, did I not?!” Wilson barked. “We have the king from the neighboring country here at this party tonight! And just look—just look what you’ve done! How am I supposed to sweep this under the rug with so many witnesses?!”

“I-I... I didn’t...!”