Once she left the council room, Milly’s steps led her naturally toward a certain place.
“This garden...” The words slipped out unbidden as she gazed at the riot of colorful blossoms before her.
The garden, connected to the rear courtyard, was a spot Milly had often visited—at least, before time had rewound. Though it carried the bitter memory of Angelina pointing her wand at her and cutting her life short, the flowers here were as beautiful as ever.
This really is the perfect place to read. Hardly anyone comes here, and the scent of the flowers never feels overwhelming.
Drawing a lungful of that gentle, nostalgic fragrance, Milly stepped further into the garden. If I remember right, there should be a bench a little ways ahead. She hadn’t come here with any particular purpose. She simply wanted somewhere calm to sit and breathe.
She walked for several minutes, following her memory, only to stop short.
Oh? The bench wasn’t empty. A girl sat there, head bowed. Milly didn’t need to see her face to recognize the short chestnut hair.
“Sierra?” Sierra Restreive. In this rewound world, Milly seemed to keep crossing paths with her.
Startled, Sierra lifted her head, eyes round, then hastily stood and dipped into a bow. “Lady Milly! G-Good afternoon!”
“Yes, good day. You fixed your hair. It suits you.”
The chestnut hair that Brima had hacked at was now neatly trimmed into a sleek bob. No doubt her mother, the hairdresser, had finished the job. It was painful to think of the wound left in her heart, but the style did suit her. It was charming in its own right.
When Milly voiced that thought honestly, Sierra pinched the ends of her hair between her fingers and gave a shy little smile. “Thank you. Lord Gilbert said the same thing.”
“He did? That’s rare. No matter how much I change my hairstyle, he’s never once praised me.”
“M-Maybe he’s just too embarrassed to say it?”
“No, I’m certain it’s because he’s studied so much his brain has no room left for hair arrangements. Even if I spiked it straight up and lacquered it stiff, he’d probably just say something like, ‘So that’s today’s style,’ and leave it at that.”
“That’s... I mean, I suppose it’s not impossible, but still...”
Sierra’s awkward reply made Milly’s lips curve faintly into a smile.
Strange. She had been so weighed down by the council meeting earlier, yet a few words of conversation here already lightened her heart. This must be what it meant to have a friend.
Taking a seat on the bench, Milly patted the spot beside her, inviting Sierra to sit as well. “Come, let’s talk for a little while. Just idle chat. I’ve always wanted to try it.” The other day had been far too hectic, and besides, there were so many things she wanted to ask.
Sierra hesitated, caught between reluctance and obligation, but in the end she couldn’t bring herself to refuse. She perched timidly on the edge of the bench, eyes lowered in embarrassment.
“So then, why were you out here alone, Sierra?”
“Huh?! Um, f-for a break, I suppose.”
“A break from what?”
“Oh, nothing important. I simply haven’t been fitting in well with the new environment, so...”
“So you came here?”
Sierra nodded, clenching her fists tightly in her lap.
That’s right. Gilbert mentioned Sierra was a commoner with no title.
She had earned her admission through strong marks on the entrance exams, but at Grandor, which was all but overrun with nobles, it was only natural a commoner would feel stifled.
“You’re in Class A, aren’t you? You spoke so easily with Gilbert at the entrance ceremony. And then there’s Lady Grey. You two seemed like you could get along.”
Lady Angelina Grey. In the world before the rewind, she had often hovered around Sierra. Sierra had seemed more annoyed than pleased, but to any observer, it had looked like closeness.
Sierra shook her head in a fluster. “N-No! Someone like me could never strike up a conversation with Lady Angelina.”
“Really?”
“And as for Lord Gilbert, at the entrance ceremony, I didn’t even know he was a prince. When I found out afterward, I broke into a cold sweat. He still talks to me now, but I’m terrified of saying something improper.”
Her shoulders slumped, and Milly’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Angelina came to mind, along with what Brima had blurted about making her Sierra’s “best friend.” Despite all that, it seemed Angelina had yet to approach the girl.
If only I’d managed to pry more out of Brima then.
Unaware of Milly’s brooding, Sierra let out a small sigh. “What if I end up without a single friend? The tea party is coming up, and I don’t even have a group to sit with.” Her voice trembled. After all that had happened, it was only natural she felt anxious.
Milly stretched her arms lightly, then let a quiet murmur slip out. “It’s all right. You’re not the only one. I came here because I couldn’t fit in either.”
“What?!” Sierra’s startled cry rang out as she looked at Milly. Her face showed disbelief. The idea that the grand duke’s daughter could struggle with social ties had never even crossed her mind.
“You see, because of my family, I ended up being disliked without even realizing it.”
Milly quietly peered up at her.
“I tried, in my own way, to get along,” Milly continued. “But everything I did was wrong somehow. In the end, it was pointless.”
Her deep sigh melted into the garden’s floral fragrance. It was a hopeless matter. To Ike, who hated the grand ducal house itself, nothing Milly could do or say would ever reach him.
“It seems I’m just not suited for dealing with people.”
No matter how she struggled, she couldn’t change the family she was born into. Which meant she could never truly reconcile with him.
Lost in that hazy gloom, Milly was jolted back when Sierra gently placed her hand over hers.
“Th-that’s not true.” Her trembling voice brushed Milly’s ears. When Milly tilted her head, Sierra’s grip on her hand tightened, her eyes burning with unusual intensity. “I-I admit, at first I thought you might be scary, Lady Milly!”
“Y-You did?”
“But now I know that’s not true. You speak to someone like me, a commoner. You help me. You’re smart and strong. I really look up to you, you know.” Sierra’s words stumbled here and there, but they were spoken clearly, firmly. Her wavering eyes locked with Milly’s.
Milly’s own eyes widened. The warmth from Sierra’s hand, pressed to hers, was soothing and gentle.
“I... I really like you, Lady Milly.”
“...”
“I know you’re a good person. So if anyone says they hate you, it just means they don’t know you at all. That’s all it is. Because you’re kind, and strong, and...and so very lovely.”
As Sierra struggled to string the words together, Milly couldn’t help but let her lips curve into a smile.
Sierra flushed crimson as if realizing what she’d just said, stammering, “I-I shouldn’t have blurted that out!”
The flustered sight only made Milly laugh softly. “Heh. Thank you. It’s been years since anyone called me ‘lovely.’”
“Ah! I-I’m sorry, Lady Milly! I didn’t mean—it just slipped out—though it’s not untrue!”
“I understand. Hey, how about you stop calling me ‘Lady’?”
When Sierra tried to pull her hand back, Milly caught her wrist, drawing her closer as she peered into those warm chestnut eyes. So beautiful. They looked straight ahead, untouched by the stain of nobility or the corruption of society. Milly almost felt a pang of envy.
“Come, let’s introduce ourselves properly. I’m Milly Asteara. Just Milly is fine.”
“Ah, I...I’m Sierra Restreive.”
“Good. Sierra.”
Sierra possessed a radiance that Milly could only envy. And Sierra had encouraged her. That alone gave Milly strength.
To give up after a little rejection is hardly worthy of a final boss.
Exactly. She had chosen to enter the council with firm resolve. Even if there were those who hated her, she had to push back until the very end. A true final boss, after all, was nothing if not tenacious.
“But you know, Sierra, I’m not really a good person.”
“Huh?”
“I stay up past midnight all the time. I read in the dark, even though it’s bad for my eyes. And not reference books either—pirate adventure novels. Isn’t that downright villainous? I’m most certainly not a good person. Not at all.”
“I... I suppose not?”
Being labeled “good” was the last thing a final boss could accept.
Feeling oddly liberated, Milly spent the next ten minutes or so in the quiet garden chatting idly with Sierra. Though a tad stiff, Sierra proved kind and easy to talk to. She even laughed at Milly’s clumsy jokes, but more than anything, her insight into magic was striking.
After parting ways with Sierra—who said it was time for her to head home—Milly returned to the classroom and ran into Gilbert and Lucius, who had been scouring the campus in search of her. Gilbert scolded her harshly, but once they saw the brightness in her expression, both of them looked relieved.
Lucius even teased her, saying that she ought to “do something about her terrible drawing skills.”
Milly was in too good a mood to take offense, so she let him off with just a single playful thump.