“My lady, some traveling entertainers from the empire have arrived in Hudore’s square,” Marianne announced one sunny day.
Liliana, who had been enjoying the handmaiden’s tea snacks, looked surprised by the news. Marianne smiled, pleased to have caught her young mistress’s interest. She must have been worried—Liliana had done little but travel between her estate and the palace since returning from Fortier.
“They say it’s a rather large troupe,” Marianne continued. “They even have magicians and all kinds of animals.”
Normally, only traveling minstrels performed in Hudore. Permission to use the square was notoriously difficult to obtain from the city’s guards, yet somehow that hurdle had been cleared.
Liliana gave the matter some thought. She had little interest in anything beyond magic and hexes, but she couldn’t deny that her curiosity had been piqued. If there were animals, it was probably a circus, yet she had never heard of such a thing in this world.
“Would you like to go see them tomorrow?” Marianne asked.
As the daughter of a duke, Liliana would first need to ask Olga and Gildo to accompany her as protection. Even so, she could already feel her excitement growing.
The next day, Liliana visited the city square with Marianne, a reluctant-looking Gildo, and Olga, whose thoughts were as unreadable as usual. Gildo disliked the idea of his charge making herself so vulnerable; he had stopped too many assassins at her estate to take her safety lightly. Nobles and commoners were separated by designated areas and visiting hours, but the square was still an ideal environment for foul play.
“Bah...” he muttered. “I know it’s our job to guard you, but there’s only so much we can do when you’re deliberately putting yourself in danger.”
Olga gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder, leaving him to sulk in silence. Marianne, tense but determined, was scanning the square for performances her lady might enjoy. As if on cue, cheers rose from somewhere ahead, drawing their attention. Liliana, however, was too short to see over the crowd.
Oh well. I don’t care enough to use magic here.
Yet just as she decided not to bother, her feet left the ground. She froze at the unexpected turn of events.
“Gildo!” Marianne exclaimed. “What are you doing to my lady?!”
“What? She’s obviously curious,” he replied. “This is the easiest way.”
In an instant, Liliana found herself sitting on Gildo’s shoulders, her feet dangling in the air. She didn’t know how to react, but Marianne was openly furious.
“My lady is the daughter of a duke, not some commoner!”
“Oh, shut it. Olga, keep an eye out for projectiles.”
“All right,” Olga replied.
Marianne must have been counting on at least Olga to side with her, for the female mercenary’s response finally rendered her speechless. Commoners often picked up their children and even hoisted them onto their shoulders, but it wasn’t something young nobles—especially high-ranking ones—would typically experience.
“Hold on to my head,” Gildo said sourly.
Liliana obeyed, albeit hesitantly. It was enough to help her stay balanced. As she finally relaxed, she turned toward the source of the cheering.
A man was performing tricks with birds. When he removed his hat, pigeons burst out one after another and perched on his fingers. Then, with a light flick of his arm, they vanished. Some spectators whispered that it must be real magic, but the magic-nullifying cage around him suggested otherwise.
“Impressive,” Olga remarked.
The act was so splendid that even Marianne forgot her anger. “Is it really not magic...?” she muttered.
“Can’t be,” Gildo said. “See the nullifying cage around him?”
“I never would have believed such things were possible without magic. It doesn’t look humanly feasible.”
Liliana agreed that the performance was interesting, but she kept scanning the square. From her new vantage point, she could see far more than she ever could from the ground: a human-shaped figure throwing knife after knife at an unmoving performer, narrowly missing each time; a juggler keeping several balls in the air while balancing in a handstand; and more besides.
“Did you find something you want to see, my lady?” Marianne asked, noticing Liliana staring fixedly in one direction.
From her higher vantage point, Liliana could see over the crowd. She nodded without taking her eyes off her target.
“Where?” Gildo asked. He craned his neck to follow her gaze, then started in that direction—toward a man with a whip, a lion, and a flaming hoop. Several royal knights stood nearby, keeping watch over the dangerous animal.
Once enough spectators had gathered, the performer spread his arms and cried, “Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on this fearsome beast! Though it killed countless in its hunger for flesh and blood, its sharp teeth and claws were no match for humankind. I brought it down in combat and bent it to my command. Now, watch closely!”
He snapped the whip against the ground. The lion, which had been sitting obediently, slowly rose and began to pace before the ring of fire.
At the man’s shout, the beast let out a low growl. Then, after a short run-up, it leaped through the flaming hoop. The crowd erupted in cheers. Animals were normally afraid of fire, and the spectators gaped at the performer who had made the lion act against its primal instincts.
“Again!” he called, and it jumped back through from the other side.
After repeating the stunt several times, the performer ordered the lion to stand down and turned back to his audience.
Liliana had been holding her breath; she had never seen a circus animal before. Only then did she realize she was clutching Gildo’s hair, and she hastily loosened her grip. It must have hurt, but he didn’t utter a word of complaint. He was grinning, if anything.
“You actually like this stuff?” he asked. “Guess you’re finally actin’ your age.”
Liliana blinked at the mercenary. She couldn’t quite parse what he meant, but Marianne and Olga seemed to understand at once. Neither replied; their silence made it clear they agreed.
“I’m glad we found something you enjoyed, my lady,” Marianne said. The genuine warmth in her voice made Liliana feel awkward, and she turned away to hide a faint blush.
Gildo, too, seemed to have shed his earlier reluctance, growing oddly enthusiastic as he searched for more acts. Different corners of the square featured different performances, though the ones involving animals were clustered together.
“A bear ridin’ in circles?” Gildo said. “Never seen anything like it.”
Liliana turned. Not far from the ring of fire, a bear rode a unicycle as though it were human. Unicycles had existed in Liliana’s past life, but she had never heard of them in this one. The bear’s didn’t even have a seat—just two pedals fixed to a single wheel. If the two worlds were meant to follow similar historical paths, unicycles shouldn’t have appeared until far into the future. Perhaps progress here would unfold differently.
“Think you could ride that thing, Olga?” Gildo asked.
“Maybe with practice. It would take time, though.”
“Yeah...”
He seemed genuinely impressed. Then a mischievous grin tugged at his mouth, and he added, “Don’t even think about tryin’ it, little one. You’ll hurt yourself, and you-know-who’ll faint.”
Having been raised as a duke’s daughter, Liliana had never been teased with such casual familiarity. She stayed quiet, uncertain how to respond—while Marianne’s eyebrows shot up.
“That’s quite enough, Gildo! My lady would never do such a thing.”
“You never know. It’s the quiet ones who do the wildest things,” Gildo said, as if speaking from experience. He glanced at Marianne as if to say, “Aren’t you the same?”
“I would never!” the handmaiden protested, her face flushing beet red.
“I don’t know about that...”
Gildo seemed to relish needling her. Marianne may have had more experience with people than Liliana, yet she didn’t seem to realize that her outrage was exactly what he wanted. Olga watched with quiet sympathy—which the handmaiden didn’t notice either.
“Are there any other performances you wish to see, my lady?” Marianne asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track. “I heard there’s a rest area at the edge of the square. We can go there if you’re tired.”
There were no rest spots in the areas open to commoners, but one had been prepared for nobles. Apparently, it even offered tea and snacks. Liliana shook her head, though; her time in Fortier had taught her that such things tasted best at home, made by her handmaiden and other servants. The risk of poison here was surely low, yet the caution and ceremony required to avoid it would be tiresome.
“How about over there?” Olga suggested, pointing. “It looks like they’ve got tightrope walking and trampoline acts.”
Liliana nodded, and Gildo set off again with her still perched on his shoulders. It was no longer strictly necessary, but it felt strangely comforting—and less tiring, given how little she usually walked.
At first, Liliana had only wanted a quick look at what the square offered, but she and the others ended up staying until evening. When the sun finally sank, a fire was lit, casting the square in a more mystical glow. By then, Liliana was thoroughly exhausted.
Gildo carried her back to the coach, and she slept so soundly that she remembered nothing of the ride home—or of being carried to her room. For that reason, she never learned that Marianne had gently patted her forehead as she slept.