Her mind made up, Milly was eager to speak with Ike as soon as possible, but that was easier said than done. Given how much he loathed her, seeking him out directly would only end with him brushing her aside. Until the next week’s council meeting—where she was certain to see him—Milly could do nothing but attend her classes diligently and wait.
Frustrating, but nothing good comes from rushing. I just have to be patient. She let out a small sigh. It was nearly the end of the lunch break, and she was walking alone across the courtyard to her next class: flight training.
As the name suggested, flight training involved the art of flying by means of a broom. The sense of freedom it offered made it one of the most popular classes, and Milly was among those who had come to love it. What thrilled her most was the simple fact that even with her poor stamina, once she was astride a broom, she could travel with ease.
As the grand duke’s daughter, Milly had led a largely sedentary life.
So while she was confident in her magical skill and raw power, her physical endurance was on par with—or worse than—that of a child. She was the type to waste magic daily just to spare herself effort, casting little wind spells at her feet to ease the burden of walking.
That was why, when she first took the class the other day, it had been a shock.
Before time rewound, Milly had scoffed that “being able to fly won’t do anyone any good” and often skipped class altogether. Now she wanted to slap her former self. Flight training was a revolution, nothing less than a marvel of civilization.
And the uniform is adorable too. I’m not used to pants, but they’re so easy to move in. The casual, muted-toned flightwear was apparently unpopular with many noble ladies, but Milly much preferred it to the gaudy academy uniforms.
Leaving the changing room in high spirits, she was just passing into the courtyard where class would be held when she heard a faint cry.
Hm? What was that? Dragging her long broom behind her, she moved toward the sound. There, she found a uniform-clad girl crouched down, shoulders trembling.
The red scarf marked her as a fellow first-year. Milly gripped her broom and drew closer, then caught her breath. She recognized that chestnut hair. “Sierra?”
Indeed, it was Sierra Restreive.
Before the rewind, the girl had been hounded by Angelina, who called her the “heroine.” And in this world, Milly had already crossed paths with her a couple of times. Now Sierra was hunched on the ground, shaking.
As Milly rushed to her side, she noticed something strange. Scattered around Sierra’s crouched form were strands of chestnut hair, unmistakably her own. Milly’s heart gave a violent jolt. Even she, with her often-slow intuition, could see at once that Sierra had been forced to have her hair cut. She knew instinctively that this must be why the girl was crying.
Milly dropped to her knees beside the trembling girl. “Hey, what happened?! Are you all right?!”
Sierra’s small frame shook, and Milly could hear faint sobs escape her. She must be terrified. Milly reached out and gently stroked her back as soothingly as she could. That chestnut hair, once long enough to be tied back, now barely reached her chin. The ends were too cleanly shorn to be natural. No, this had been no accident. It couldn’t have been done with scissors—it must have been some kind of wind magic or similar spell. Whatever the method, there was no mistaking it was done deliberately.
Who would do such a thing? She’d often heard it said that a woman’s hair was her life. She wanted to hunt down the culprit immediately, but she couldn’t just abandon Sierra here.
After some time, Sierra seemed to calm somewhat. She lifted her face slowly, and when her brown eyes met Milly’s, they widened in shock. “Oh! L-Lady Milly?!”
“Good day, Sierra. Are you feeling calmer now?”
“Ah, y-yes. I mean, f-forgive me!”
“For what?”
Sierra had, quite literally, nothing at all to apologize for.
Running her fingers through Sierra’s shortened hair, Milly’s expression softened at the sight of the damage. “Much has been cut off. It must’ve been done with magic. You’re not hurt, are you?”
Perhaps recalling what had just happened, Sierra lowered her gaze and shook her head. “No. I’m all right.”
“Well, that’s a relief. But did you see who did it? When did it happen? Choosing a deserted place like this makes it seem premeditated. Once I find them, I’ll be sure to...”
“U-Um, I...” Sierra faltered, eyes darting.
Her face was so stricken Milly wondered if she was physically injured after all. But when she leaned in to check, Sierra caught weakly at the hem of her uniform.
“Sierra?”
“I-I’m sorry. It’s just that I...”
“Yes? What is it? Are you actually injured?”
“N-No, that’s not it. I’m just so scared, I can barely speak.” Her voice trembled, and tears welled in her eyes.
The sight was so painful Milly immediately felt regret. Forcing questions on a girl quaking with fear was far too thoughtless of her.
“Forgive me. You’re right. This isn’t the time for interrogation.” Sierra’s care had to come first. Yet Milly had no idea how to provide it. Maybe the best she could do was make small talk to distract her.
Sitting down beside Sierra, she studied the girl’s face intently. I’m far too hopeless when it comes to small talk. What could I possibly say to make her smile?
Sierra looked at Milly, puzzled. Reflected in the so-called heroine’s clear eyes was a face so stern it was painfully reminiscent of the grand duke. Hardly the sort of expression suited to comforting anyone.
In times like this, what mattered was a smile. If she could just smile, things would somehow work out. So Milly forced her lips into what she thought was a smile, though in truth it was little different from her usual blank expression, and tried again.
“Um, I’m not very good at this, but please bear with me.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve never really comforted anyone before. So, tell me, what kind of topic works at times like this? Do you like cake?”
Of the few subjects Milly felt confident discussing, one was the city’s best cake shops and the other was the relationship between the moon’s phases and fluctuations in magical power. She remembered the strained look Bibi had given her the last time she launched into the latter, so she concluded it probably wasn’t the right choice for a girl her own age.
In that case, the perfect option was cake, but Sierra only glanced aside, looking troubled.
“So, you don’t like cake?”
“Wh-What?! N-no, that’s not it! It’s just, I don’t know much about sweets, so I doubt I could converse coherently on that topic.”
“I see. Then what do you enjoy, Sierra? Singing? Animals? Jewelry?” She rattled off the sorts of things she imagined girls their age must enjoy, but none seemed to draw any spark of interest from Sierra.
Out of topics to draw from, Milly looked flustered, until Sierra murmured softly, “U-Um, I suppose...the study of magic.”
“What?!”
The word magic made Milly lean forward eagerly. Her face glowed. She could hardly believe it. In a school where most students grumbled about magic being too abstract and tedious, here was a girl who actually liked it? She couldn’t let this opportunity slip away from her.
However, Sierra hastily shook her head. “Ah, n-no! I only mean I like it, not that I’m good at it or anything. Compared to you, Lady Milly, I can’t even begin to—”
“Skill doesn’t matter! Tell me, Sierra, did you know that there’s a subtle connection between the moon’s phases and human magical power?” Suddenly, Milly was rattling off words at a speed that must have seemed unsettling. But she couldn’t help it. She was overjoyed!
All this time she had studied magic alone. She’d pored over textbooks, devoured reference materials, read research papers, and gained enough knowledge to rival professional scholars. But she’d never had anyone to share it with.
Even when a new, revolutionary theory was published, Milly had no one around to revel in the excitement with her.
And now here sat Sierra. She had just said she liked magic. Despite being seemingly overwhelmed by Milly’s enthusiasm, she still nodded along.
Maybe this is what people mean when they talk about friends.
That thought had just softened Milly’s cheeks into a smile when something hissed sharply through the air behind her. Before she had time to think, she threw herself over Sierra, who shrieked in response.
Wind magic?! Milly instantly understood that someone was targeting them.
The spell had gone wide, veering off in another direction, but the intent was clear. It had to be the same culprit who had shorn Sierra’s hair. They had to be lurking nearby, watching.
They’re still around! Wrapping an arm around Sierra’s waist, Milly scanned the area.
And there she caught sight of a figure dashing frantically around the corner. Trousers. A boy, perhaps.
“Forgive me, Sierra. Hold on tight.”
“Wh-What?!”
Snatching up the broom she had set beside her, Milly swept Sierra into her arms and sprang onto it in one motion. She couldn’t leave the girl behind when there might be accomplices lying in wait, and if she wasted time casting protective spells, the culprit would slip away. Therefore, there was only one option, rough though it was: take Sierra along.
“Eeek! Wh-What’s happening?!”
“I deeply apologize, but I can’t leave you behind. I have to bring you with me!” Apologizing over Sierra’s shrieks, Milly shot across the courtyard at breakneck speed on her broom.