Rook took the kingeagle down to the southern side of the castle, by the area that looked like a military base. Though the other open spaces were mostly parks covered by greenery, this one had simply been leveled and left bare, similar to a schoolyard. It was likely used for training exercises. Around it were crude buildings with unadorned black stone walls—further evidence that this was a military facility.
The kingeagle aimed for the empty space and descended with both precision and speed. Although I’d been allowed to take the reins myself several times in the past, I couldn’t imagine trying to land a kingeagle with pinpoint accuracy in such a small space like this. If, for example, the tips of the bird’s wings were to clip the walls or buildings on the way down, it would have lost its balance, gone into a tailspin, and quite possibly killed us both.
But Rook had overcome these difficulties without showing the slightest bit of concern. Once the kingeagle touched gently down, he released his belt and hoisted me off the bird. Since the moment we’d landed, someone had been approaching us from a shed where plainrunners were tethered.
“Hey, Rook.”
“Oh, it’s you, Galla,” Rook responded casually to the man I’d never seen before.
His name was evidently Galla. While I wouldn’t have exactly called him handsome, he didn’t look shabby either. He had an intimidating figure with short hair, and he was more muscular than Rook. I judged him to be a soldier of sorts. The populace must have slept easy with men like this in their armed forces. If everything was paid for by their taxes, he looked to be worth every penny.
“I’ve got a delivery here,” Rook told him. “Did you hear about it?”
“I heard. They said you were bringing a special bird for the princess.”
“It was a real headache, to be honest.” Rook frowned a little and awkwardly scratched his head. “They told me it had to be a young, high-quality kingeagle that a child could manage.”
People make that sort of order too?
“Bwa ha ha ha!” Galla erupted in laughter. “That’s what they asked for?”
There must be a good-natured man behind that mean face of his.
“Anyway,” Rook continued. “I brought our most well-behaved bird. Hope you get some good use out of it.”
“Oh, we will. Though I won’t be riding it.”
This man looked too big to ride an eagle in the first place. He was so tall and muscular that he might have weighed over eighty kilograms by himself, to say nothing of how heavy he must have been with a full suit of armor and a spear. If someone like him got on an eagle, it wouldn’t be able to fly, or at the very least, it would quickly get tired. Huge, muscular men made good soldiers, but a problem with kingeagles was that they weren’t good at carrying them.
“I’m sure the sky knights who serve the princess are well aware, but you’d be better off practicing with an old bird that’s mellowed out a little,” Rook explained.
Oh, really?
None of our kingeagles were very old, so I’d never had the chance to ride one like Rook had described. Our oldest was a female we kept for breeding, and the rest were sold off while they were still fairly young.
“Yes, the knights around her know that,” Galla replied. “I’m sure it’s Her Majesty the Queen who doesn’t. I bet she wanted her daughter to ride a kingeagle of the highest repute, rather than one born in the royal guard’s birdcages.”
It turned out that Rook’s eagles were held in high regard. I hadn’t realized it until now because Rook had never bragged about it.
“Spare me the flattery. A bird won’t fly well unless it’s handled well, no matter how it was reared.”
“Blame Her Majesty’s motherly love. Still, I can’t say it was a bad idea if you’re the one who raised it.”
Rook let out a long sigh. “Her Majesty will have my head if it throws the princess. I’ve trained it as carefully as I could.”
“You needn’t worry so much. If the princess can’t ride it, I’m sure there’ll be a sky knight happy to have it.”
“I suppose so.”
“Now, are you gonna introduce the kid?” Galla looked at me. His great height meant that he was actually towering over me, which was a little intimidating.
“He’s my son. His name’s Yuri,” Rook said.
Galla crouched to get down to my eye level. Even so, his face was still above mine, and I had to look up a little to meet his eyes.
“Hello there, Yuri.”
“Hello,” I said with a bow.
Galla grinned at me. “A proper hello. Aren’t you a good boy?”
“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet a friend of my father’s.”
“You’re a smart kid. Gonna be a scholar when you grow up?”
“I’m planning to inherit my father’s business right now, though it’s not certain yet. It remains to be seen whether I’ll be fit for the job or not.”
Galla looked at me dumbfounded, then gave me a couple of pats on the head with one hand. He stood up again. “He’s awfully well-spoken for a kid. How old is he?”
“He’ll be four very soon.”
“Four? I haven’t seen a kid this smart since the princess.”
He must have thought I was weird, but I couldn’t bear pretending to act my apparent age all the time. I could do it for a few days, but several years was too much to ask.
“Don’t exaggerate,” Rook said. “He’s just a regular kid.”
Yeah, you tell him.
“My own son’s four,” Galla replied.
“Oh, is he?”
“Yeah. I said so in my letters.”
“Oh... I think I remember reading that.”
Get it together, dad.
“You think...?” Galla paused for a moment. “Anyway, let’s just say I wish mine were turning out half as well as yours.”
“Oh, come off it. I bet he’s no different from mine.”
“You’d never hear this polite talk from my brat, believe me.”
And here’s what happens when dads get to talking about their kids. Gonna be here a while... Or so I thought.
“Sir Galla.” A young woman appeared from behind a building and hurried over to us.
“Something wrong?” Galla asked her.
“Her Highness Carol honors us with her presence,” she said.
“Her Highness?” Galla echoed.
Her Highness was one of the titles given to royal family members. I guessed from the discussion that the “Highness” headed here was none other than the princess we’d just been talking about—the new owner of the eagle we’d ridden here.
“It’s not great timing... Let me guess—she couldn’t wait to see her eagle?”
“That’s correct,” the young woman replied.
Galla studied me and Rook in turn, like someone appraising a couple of antiques. His gaze was aimed below our faces, so he was making sure we were suitably dressed. As it turned out, we were both wearing fairly nice outfits for our trip to the city.
“All right, bring her here,” he decided.
“Yes, sir.” The woman saluted him before turning around and hurrying off.
No, don’t bring her here. I really don’t wanna meet her.
I looked at Rook, and from his pained expression I could tell he felt the same way.
“Nice seeing you, Galla.” Rook gave him a casual wave and then turned to leave.
“You didn’t get a signature, did you?” Galla noted with a mischievous smile. “Don’t need one to take with you?”
Hand over the goods, collect a signature—the basics of trade. Until he got that signature, the eagle delivery wasn’t finished.
Galla seemed to want Rook to meet the princess. I doubted he meant any harm, so I didn’t foresee any trouble, but I had zero familiarity with royalty. My lack of knowledge made me nervous.
“I’d rather not talk to royalty. My days of dealing with them are over.” Rook looked as though he considered it more of a hassle than something to fear. Presumably, there were a lot of awkward formalities to follow around important people.
“Don’t be like that. They could be regular customers in the future.”
“Uh...”
Before Rook could finish thinking it over, the same woman appeared from behind the building again. That came as a surprise.
The woman was accompanied by a sophisticated-looking girl, and she, in turn, was followed by two more women who looked like maids. The young girl was about the same age as me, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. Her silky hair fluttered in the breeze as she strode toward us. Rather than a dress, she was wearing an exquisitely tailored riding habit, complete with bottoms that appeared to be made of hide. Her choice of outfit spoke of her eagerness to ride the eagle.
Upon hearing the sound of boots scraping against the sandy ground right beside me, I turned to see Rook down on one knee. He was bowing to her in an odd fashion. Galla, on the other hand, simply gave her a standing bow, perhaps because he was better acquainted with her. Since I was Rook’s son, I figured I’d better follow his kneeling bow. Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to do it properly—I hadn’t been taught any of the country’s rules of etiquette. I settled for a monkey-see-monkey-do approach and imitated Rook best I could.
I heard the girl’s clear, high-pitched voice above my head. “You may raise your heads.”