We were standing near a field of evening primroses. They were the same as they’d ever been and thankfully showed no signs of wilting.
“Sita, you scared me!” I said. “Thank goodness the flowers are all right.”
Sita examined the flowers. “Hmm, no, I think this is bad,” she determined, interrupting my sigh of relief and cruelly shattering my hopes with a frown.
“Huh?” I was once again stupefied.
“Is it related to the underground research facility?” His Highness asked.
Sita nodded in response, finally cluing me into her misgivings about the situation.
“I see... The evening primroses bloom by receiving mana from underground. Now that the well of mana’s gone, are they going to wilt?” I asked.
“Exactly,” Sita replied. “I think they’ll bloom this year, but they’ll eventually run out of mana and wilt, I think. This place wasn’t really suited for these flowers anyway.”
“Wh-Wh-What’ll we do?! That’s bad! Really bad! The evening primroses are one of the main sources of revenue for the village! Ahhh!!!” I was sweating buckets to the point where I feared I’d collapse from dehydration, so I only barely managed to put my dismay into words. Crap! Crap! Crap! Craaaaaaap! Holy crap! This is my biggest screwup of the century! What do I do?! What can I do?!
“It’s because...I woke up,” Noa said, intuiting she was responsible after seeing me panic.
“No, that’s not it,” I said firmly, hastily denying the idea. “You don’t have to look so bothered, Noa.” Despite being so young, she was very sensitive about situations potentially being her fault. I knew I had to find a way to help her get over that, but I felt too clueless and ignorant a person to know how to go about it.
“What do I do?!” I cried. “Tell me, Orthaemon!” Pressed as I was, I felt it was time to rely on my trusty not-so-white-and-blue, not-very-round book buddy to pull something out of his nonexistent pocket.
“Excuse me?” the dragon asked. “Are you referring to me? Calm down, Mary. There is a solution to this.”
“I-I knew I could count on you, Orthaemon,” I said. “Thank goodness!”
“Drop that silly nickname!”
“Now then, what can we do? Tell me, pretty please.”
“Good grief... Very well. The simplest solution would be to return that little girl to her original spo—”
“Deniiiied!” I had no choice but to raise my voice and cut him off for offering that absurd solution despite my faith in him. “Plan B, please.”
“Well, considering the fairies are involved, the only other method we’ve got left is to beg the bratty little tree.”
“By that, you mean...”
“Indeed. The spirit tree.” He heaved a massive sigh.
I fell to the ground in despair. I went to all the trouble of placating her and flattering her so we could part ways, yet now, cruel fate, you force me to return to her side again?
I just know things won’t be so simple. I can feel it in my bones. She’ll definitely bring unwanted trouble along with her... I stared at the ground and trembled as I simulated possible scenarios with the tree.
“Uh, Rachel, I don’t quite get it, but how long will it take for the evening primroses to wilt?” Sacher turned to Rachel and whispered.
I feel like those two have gotten used to standing alongside each other.
“Well, I’m no expert, but at this rate...I think the flowers will definitely wilt in about a century or so,” Rachel said.
“Say what?” We all gasped as we turned to her quizzically.
Sita nodded with a frown. “Right. A century will pass by in the blink of an eye. We should do what we can while we’ve got the time.”
We were all silent, unsure of what to say.
“I suppose elves and us humans perceive time differently...” Safina said. “Lady Mary, what shall we do?”
“Er... I’m not sure...” I replied. “What’ll we do, Magiluka?”
“Please don’t ask me,” Magiluka replied. “This is your duchy, after all.”
“Orthoaguina gave us a solution, sort of...” I muttered. “Ugh, the spirit tree?” I stood back up, but I was barely keeping it together and felt my knees buckling. “Wh-Why don’t we sleep on it for now?”
The solution I came up with was the worst one of all. “Bah ha ha!” Orthoaguina laughed. “You really are always fun to watch. There’s no need to act as soon as possible, but it’s best to keep a solution in mind— Ah!”
I turned to the talking book quizzically, wondering why he cut himself off.
“They’ve bloomed,” he said.
A glowing petal danced in front of my eyes. I’d seen this fantastical sight five years ago, but I couldn’t suppress my gasp of awe, spellbound by its beauty.
I might have a century to spare, but it’s not right to leave current problems to future generations.
Hrmm... And I’ve got Noa to think about, and the Argent Armor might appear again. From the Argent Knight to the evening primroses, there are so many issues to resolve... Arghhhh! I felt like my head was about to burst from the sheer number of problems I had ahead of me. I didn’t know where to start.
For now, let’s just calm down and enjoy this beautiful scene in front of me with all my friends. I wasn’t trying to escape reality, I’ll have you know. I sort of...can promise that.
And so, I gazed all around me, trying to keep my mind empty. “It’s been five years, huh...” I murmured, lost in my thoughts. Every day felt like an eternity, but in retrospect, time had flown by so quickly.
“Five years already...” the prince muttered, gazing into the distance. “Have I made progress toward my oath?” The question was directed more to himself than anyone else. No doubt the oath he was referring to was his declaration to all of us here: to create a kingdom where everyone could smile. The promise itself sounded a bit abstract, but back then, I’d thought that it was par for the course for our prince. Speaking of which, I don’t really remember what happened after. If memory serves...
I thought back to that exchange. I’d misunderstood his confession and insolently fled—ahem, I’d elegantly strolled away, as a maiden would. I smiled.
“Lady Mary?” His Highness asked, tilting his head to perplexedly.
“Oh, uh, nothing,” I hastily replied. “Prince Reifus, I think you’re walking the right path. You haven’t forgotten that promise of yours, after all.”
I knew he hadn’t been looking for a response, but there I went offering an opinion anyway. Y-You idiot! Why in the world am I acting like I’m above him?! Shut your trap, Mary! I internally slapped my silly self, even giving my psyche a one-two punch to its stupid theoretical mouth.
The prince blinked back, surprised that he’d received an answer at all, before he flashed his usual, mild-mannered smile. “I see...” he said. “Yeah, I think so too. Heh heh, you really do always keep me focused on the road forward.” He looked oddly refreshed and bright-eyed.
Cold sweat ran down my back. The prince’s whisper had barely reached my ears, yet I nevertheless forced myself to smile back at him. Five years later, I’m still as impudent as ever... I haven’t grown at all, have I? I glanced around at my friends to shift topics when I spotted Noa acting a bit strange. Her eyes went wide at the beautiful view of the evening primroses, but it felt like she wasn’t all there, like she wasn’t gazing at the present.