“You must be such a powerful man now if you’ve made your older sister wait like this, Zen,” Sharla greeted him snidely.
But I came as soon as you called for me... Zen dejectedly dropped his shoulders at being glared at first thing upon entering the room. Had she expected him to run at full speed inside the mansion?
“Well, that’s fine. I will forgive you. I’m in a good mood today.” She haughtily leaned back on the parlor sofa and crossed her legs. She was a refined, slim-figured woman who wore this brand of snobbish arrogance particularly well. However, Zen knew that under her clothes was a body stacked with muscle.
Since childhood, she had excelled at brawls—superior military prowess, they’d called it—and he’d heard that she’d received good scores in fencing, sportsmanship, archery, and horsemanship in the Advanced Civil Service Exam.
Despite that, she was cunning—no, intelligent—and had astonished her examiner with her knowledge of military strategy and history, which had made her the talk of the town.
After passing the Advanced Civil Service Exam in one try at the age of fifteen (as the top student no less), her gender was taken into consideration and she’d started a career as security for the inner palace—a place that was reserved for women. She was put on what would be called the fast track to success, where she could get acquainted with royalty. In fact, the current grand empress dowager was quite fond of her. At the young age of twenty, she’d been officially appointed the commanding officer of the inner palace’s garrison.
When the Pandelsen Revolt broke out, she’d personally enlisted to fight and headed to war. She’d piled up a hefty stack of military feats while serving on the front lines.
After her triumphant return, she’d become the adviser to the bureau director of the Imperial Guard in the Ministry of Military Affairs while in her twenties. That was to say, she’d climbed up to the level of a lieutenant general in command of eighty thousand men.
For this great woman, even a national emergency had become the fair wind to another promotion. How far she’d come was way beyond what could be considered smooth sailing.
That was Sharla, the second daughter of the four Leadon siblings. She was now thirty-five years old and a mother of two.
“I heard the news, Zen,” she said. “It seems you’re being sent to the countryside.”
“I see your ears are sharp.” Zen nodded as he sat on the sofa facing her. Well, rather than being sharp-eared, he judged by the way she was speaking that she’d surely known about it beforehand.
This bad feeling is getting worse, Zen thought to himself. He would never in a million years voice it in front of his scary older sister, though.
Meanwhile, Sharla lamented, “Truly such a cruel notice Yohia gave you. As your kind, older sister, my heart hurts.” Her words dripped with insincerity. “I bet you’ll be lonely being transferred away from your family.”
“Not really, since I have Keel.”
She clenched her fist. “You’re sad about being separated from your beloved older sister, right?”
Intimidated by her threat, he squeaked out an insincere “Yes, very!” He wanted to hurry and run away to the countryside—to somewhere this violent woman wasn’t!
“I have a parting present to give to my little brother who cannot bear to part with me,” she said shamelessly.
Zen half closed his eyes, bracing himself. “Thank you.”
Meanwhile, she turned to the room next door and sharply ordered, “Let her in.”
Zen wasn’t surprised that someone was there. He’d guessed they had a guest since Sharla had invited him to the parlor instead of her room.
The housemaid from before opened the door and politely led in the guest. Sure enough, it was a woman with a suspicious appearance.
She was obviously a woman by her figure and hair, her long, shiny locks eye-catching and clearly well taken care of. Her face, however, was concealed behind a silk veil. It was like something a woman of nobility would choose to wear in order to travel undercover. Nevertheless, Zen sensed that she was pretty young, probably still only a girl.
“Please come in and have a seat.” To Zen’s disbelief, Sharla, his haughty older sister, stood to welcome this stranger. He rushed to follow suit.
Who could she be? he wondered, continuing to observe her while taking care to not look impolite. Soon enough, though, there was no longer any need for that.
Sharla had the guest sit down in the spot where she’d been seated just moments ago and carefully removed her veil.
“Ahh...” A sound escaped Zen’s lips at the sight of the guest’s face up close. All sense of manners or politeness had completely left him—that was how shocked he was.
Their guest really was a girl. And it was a face he knew well.
Indeed, she was the spitting image of his first love from when they were still teens.