In the Lieseltanian royal capital of Strell…
“Wow! Your Highness…no, Your Majesty! You’re beautiful!”
Flora, dressed in her maid’s uniform, clasped her hands together in front of her chest in astonishment as she stepped into the room.
“You are speaking to the queen. Conduct yourself accordingly,” an elderly maid helping Julis dress chided Flora, but Julis raised a hand to stop her.
Looking in the mirror, she was struck by the pure white dress that had just been fitted for her in preparation for the evening’s party. It was much more elegant than her ceremonial attire, and it made her long, lush rose-colored hair stand out even more than usual. People said that she looked much more beautiful than she once had. She’d been so desperate a few years back, maybe she had indeed lost her rugged edge.
“A-apologies…,” Flora said, cringing.
Julis flashed her a soft smile as the older maid backed down. “Don’t worry about it, Flora. I owe you an apology, keeping you so busy even though you’ve just returned.”
“N-not at all! It’s my duty to serve you, Your High—Your Majesty!”
“I’m relieved to hear you say that. Anyway, I’m just tired today.”
Julis sat down on the sofa and sighed, careful not to wrinkle the dress that she had just changed into. After all, she had had a busy day—from setting out in a horse-drawn carriage around the lake to greet large crowds of people, to attending the rituals in the cathedral, where she had taken the oath of office in front of the archbishop. She’d been given a ring, a scepter, and a crown, and consecrated with holy oil. Then she’d returned to the royal palace by carriage again and greeted the people once more from the building’s balcony. The silk dress and velvet ceremonial attire that she had worn for the coronation ceremony had been difficult to move around in, and the long hem had to be carried by several servants. On top of that, her hair was done up elaborately, too. The whole thing had been unbearably stiff and formal.
But she was still only halfway through the day’s schedule. After this, she had two more dinners to attend before delivering a speech to the nation. She had been waiting all day for this chance to catch her breath.
“So is everyone here?”
“Yes! They’ve all arrived. It’s just…” Flora lowered her gaze with a pained look. “Everyone except Master Amagiri…”
“…I see.”
After graduating from Seidoukan, Julis had moved to a two-year university in England to study comparative politics and other subjects and, upon returning to Lieseltania, had assisted her older brother Jolbert in ruling. During that time, she had often spoken with her friends from Seidoukan, with whom she had shared so much joy and hardship, and she had even continued to interact with Sylvia and those from the other schools. But she had rarely heard from Ayato. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that she had hardly ever been able to reach him. Apparently, it was the same for the others, too. Once a month, sometimes once every few months, her mobile would ring, and they would speak for a few brief minutes. According to Saya, that was likely because he was supposed to keep his mobile switched off wherever he was, or else because there was no reception, or perhaps it was simply broken. But even so, Julis couldn’t help worrying about where he was and what he was doing.
“I wanted to talk with him about something, too…,” Julis mumbled, rising from the sofa to stare out over the gardens beyond the glass doors. “There’s still a little time before the first dinner party. I’m going to get some fresh air,” she announced.
“Yes, of course,” Flora answered with a reverent bow.
Leaving her behind, Julis stepped out into the garden that stretched between the royal palace and the smaller detached palace. This was her favorite place, a garden that she still took time to tend to herself.
It was still a little too early for spring, but some buds were beginning to bloom in their flower beds, the first hints of their fragrances wafting through the air.
The sun was setting, but she could still feel the lingering traces of its warm light.
All of a sudden, a strong southerly wind blew through the garden.
On reflex, Julis reached out to keep her hair in place, closing her eyes.
And then—
“Hi, Julis. It’s been a while.”
She heard a voice, nostalgic and familiar. Then she opened her eyes, and there he was.
“Ayato…”
Before she knew it, the figure of a young man had appeared before her.
Did his face leave a stronger impression than before? Perhaps it was his slight tan that lent him a more mature look. He’d put on some muscle, but he’d also grown taller, which softened the impression. All in all, he retained the same gentle, calm atmosphere that she remembered. If she had to nitpick, the long hair tied tidily behind his head didn’t suit him very well.
For a moment, Julis stood there stunned—but it wasn’t long before she regained her composure, fixing him with a glare as a smile rose to her lips.
“Looks like you’re making a habit of trespassing.”
“Ha-ha… Sorry. Security took one look at me and tried to stop me from entering.”
Ayato was dressed in a worn-out coat that hid his body, and his boots had clearly seen better days. It was a far cry from formal attire, and certainly not the kind of clothes that would allow one access into a royal palace.
“I’m not surprised… Still, you could have just called someone to let you in. It wouldn’t even have to be me. Claudia or one of the others would have been able to clear things up.”
“Well…,” he began, showing her his mobile device—it was completely destroyed.
No, not just destroyed. Those rough marks were unmistakably the work of a blade.
“Really… What on earth have you been doing?” she asked, half-worried, half-shocked, and more than a little angry.
Ayato averted his gaze and smiled. It looked like he had no intention of answering her.
“…At the very least, couldn’t you have cleaned yourself up first? Don’t you have any common sense?”
“Well, er… I’m ashamed to admit it, but I didn’t have anything else on hand.”
Julis was at a loss for words, but when she paused to think about it, he had been wandering from place to place for the past three years. Perhaps it was inevitable. Of course, with his ability and fame, he should have been able to earn as much money as he could ever want or need. The fact that he hadn’t done so could only mean that he didn’t feel like it.
“Actually, I was planning to simply watch from a distance… But when I saw your face, I couldn’t resist the urge to see you again in person, Julis. And to congratulate you.”
“…!”
He was as sly as ever. When he put it like that, how was she supposed to respond?
“…Fine, fine. I get it,” she said, resting a hand in front of her eyes as she waved for him to stop. “…It looks like you’ve been busy, though.”
From between her fingers, Julis’s piercing gaze could make out his whole body.
It was easy to see from his mannerisms alone, but the tranquil state of his prana was extraordinary. It should have been impossible to hold that much power inside without showing the strain—not only physically, but mentally, too.
The Ayato in front of her was even stronger than before—incomparably so when she thought back to who he had been three years earlier. He might even be a match for Xinglou now. At his current level, he would have had no trouble at all sneaking past the guards to enter the palace grounds.
“A lot of it was luck. Xiaohui introduced me to a venerable old sage who taught me the basics of seisenjutsu… Though it doesn’t suit me all that well, and unfortunately, I wasn’t able to master it.”
“What…? You met Hagun Seikun?”
“During my martial arts training. I happened to bump into him, so he let me tag along for a while. He’s become quite formidable, too.”
“Oh? I heard he beat Kirin in their last duel…”
“Apparently he wasn’t very satisfied with the outcome. Actually, speaking of Jie Long, I ran into Fuyuka at Mount Emei. She was having an issue with some people from Azdaja and—”
Ayato, talking lightly as though looking back on fond memories, suddenly raised a hand to his mouth to stop himself.
“Hold on… Did you just say Azdaja?” Julis gave him a probing look.
“Er…,” Ayato responded with a wry, vague smile.