Torvald, king of Kanaria; Azaal, the crown prince; and Corquia, the marquis: Out of the figures seated before me, those were the only three for whom I could put names to their faces.
As far as His Majesty went, I was impressed, to say the least. I greatly appreciated that his ceremonies were simple and no-frills. Thanks to that, I was only about half as fatigued as I would have been in one of the long, drawn-out, and overly formal ceremonies of the empire. Oh, and the king himself? He didn’t seem like much, if I was being honest. He carried the authority and dignity of a monarch, of course, but it was nothing compared to the intensity of Duke Dragonaut.
But the crown prince...he had a little more fire in him. The moment he saw my face, he shouted, “Gift me your indigo wyvern!”
The boy of thirteen apparently wanted Claimh Soras as his future mount. Indigo wyverns were a superior breed, and Claimh Soras, born and raised in the wild, possessed a different level of power than those raised by human hands. As an example, whenever I put it in the dragon knights’ stable, the other wyverns would all immediately fall silent and lower their long necks to the ground in reverence. So it was no wonder the crown prince had his eye on Claimh Soras. Of course, I’d never give the beast to him, but the fact that he never doubted I would was scary in its own way.
Still, I didn’t feel any malice from him. He clearly wanted me to give him Claimh Soras simply because he liked the wyvern. There was no motive beyond that. I could tell he got a bit envious when his father pointed to me and referred to me as the “Indigo Dragon Knight,” but that was all. It was a pretty cool alias, and aliases like that do tend to stoke young boys’ hearts. I should know.
However, the king introducing me like that wasn’t simply to acknowledge my achievements. By referring to me as a dragon knight—a knight—he wanted to give the impression to everyone else in the room that I was working for him. It was a kind of performance, in a sense. So really, the crown prince shouldn’t have been envious of me at all...but perhaps it was unreasonable to expect a thirteen-year-old boy to pick up on all that.
Azaal was just what you’d expect from a thirteen-year-old prince: spirited like a young boy and arrogant like royalty. When he had realized Duke Dragonaut and Astrid were present, he’d immediately slunk away from me in shame, so I didn’t even get the opportunity to turn down his request for Claimh Soras. Finding his behavior odd, I cocked my head, at which the duke helpfully explained. Apparently, Prince Azaal had called off his engagement to Claudia the other day. The duke had only heard this news from the king himself—even now, the crown prince hadn’t spoken a word about it. And of course, he hadn’t come over to see Claudia since then either. Indeed, that would explain why the boy had such a hard time meeting the Dragonauts’ gazes.
Lastly, Marquis Corquia. In terms of nobility, her family was second only to the Dragonauts. I’d also heard her ties with Ad Astera ran deep, as opposed to the Dragonaut’s policy of independence and self-respect, which caused the two families to butt heads on occasion.
“Mr. Sora, I hear you’re from the empire as well. Since we’ll have a new royal family member from the empire soon enough, would you mind telling me about where you grew up?” she asked me with a cordial smile.
If I were to describe her with a number, it would be one. That was because she literally looked like the numeral—thin like a needle and towering like a tree—and because she only had about one percent of the intensity Duke Dragonaut had. However, the look in her eyes was razor-sharp, and her dark-gray pupils glinted like newly forged blades. I guessed she was more the intelligent, bureaucratic type rather than combat-oriented.
Corquia was also all too happy to inform me of the annulment. I suspected it was her roundabout way of letting me know that the Dragonauts’ influence was on the decline. Despite having no interest whatsoever in the political strife brewing within the royal palace, I was fed one useless tidbit of information after another. I talked to several other counts and knight leaders too, but it would be a pain to recall everything they said.
The next day, I awoke in the Dragonaut mansion. While heading over to Claimh Soras to feed it breakfast, I shrugged to myself. “Well, at least they seem willing to recognize Suzume’s achievements. I guess I should be grateful to them for that alone.”
Just as the association had requested, His Majesty Torvald had acknowledged Suzume and her deeds with his own mouth. Now Suzume’s safety within Kanaria would be all but guaranteed. I highly doubted anyone in the kingdom would be impudent enough to try and steal the horns of a demonkin who’d been publicly commended by the king himself. And if anyone did still try to go after Suzume after all this, I’d devour them without hesitation.
While ruminating on this, I arrived at the estate’s wyvern stable. At first I’d been asked to put Claimh Soras in the royal palace’s stable, and I did for a while, but as I couldn’t guarantee that the crown prince wouldn’t attempt anything if I left it there overnight, I’d asked the duke to have Claimh Soras moved back to his own place. More than anything, I was worried about Prince Azaal’s safety. After all, if he unwittingly snuck out to try and meet Claimh Soras, and the wyvern got angry and flattened the prince with his tail, I might be suspected of a royal murder. No thanks.
“Huh?”
When I entered the stable, there was a figure already in front of my wyvern. I felt déjà vu—just like before, the figure had long, flowing golden hair. My first thought was that Astrid had come to visit Claimh Soras again, but the figure was smaller than hers. Even without heels, Astrid was taller than I was. Plus, the figure’s chest was as flat as mine.
The intruder, having noticed my presence, turned toward me somewhat stiffly. It was the duke’s younger daughter, Claudia Dragonaut.
“Oh... Good morning, Mr. Sora.”
“Good morning, Lady Claudia. Come to see the indigo wyvern?”
“Oh...yes! I heard so much about it from my sister, you see, that I absolutely had to see it with my own eyes!”
Her hair was golden, and her pupils were light purple. Thin, toothpick-like limbs and pale, ghostly white skin. Her cheeks looked like they’d been gaunt for so long that they were permanently sunken in. But her voice and behavior were normal, and the look in her eyes as she stared straight at me was full of determination and willpower. To be blunt, she was my type.
“This early in the morning?”
“Well, I woke up feeling better than normal, so I decided to take a morning walk. If I don’t exercise first thing, I can’t move for the rest of the day, you see.” She opened and closed her fists as though to exercise them. She seemed to have quite an energetic personality.
When I drew closer, Claudia gave me a slight bow, then turned and looked up at Claimh Soras. I didn’t even have to see her face to know the young girl’s eyes were sparkling with delight. Her cheeks were tinged slightly pink, though. Perhaps that, too, was from the excitement of seeing an indigo wyvern up close.
“Really, though, aren’t they pretty? These indigo scales, I mean. I can understand why papa’s so infatuated with these creatures now. Do you mind if I pet it?”
“Don’t ask me; ask the creature itself,” I replied.
“Oh, right! Of course, silly me! Um, um, excuse me, Claimh Soras? Would it be okay if I touched you?”
The wyvern screeched.
“C’mon, please? Oh, I should introduce myself, shouldn’t I? My name is Claudia. But my friends and family call me Clau.”
The wyvern chirped in surprise.
“That’s right! You’re Claimh, and I’m Clau! Our names are almost exactly the same! It’s like we’re already friends!”
Claimh Soras looked somewhat conflicted, but since it didn’t rear back in anger, it seemed that calling attention to their similar names had been the right move to befriend a wyvern, a species that placed great importance on names. Finally, as if to say Fine, you win, it thumped its tail on the ground once.