The first thing Shizuku heard when she woke up was this incomprehensible argument coming from right beside her. A woman shouted sternly at a man, who answered her apathetically. Every time she raised her voice, filled with undisguised rage, it made Shizuku’s head pound. Shizuku opened her eyes slightly and stared at the pale-green ceiling. Did hospitals make a point of using wallpaper that was kind on the eyes nowadays? In contrast, the furnishings were rather ostentatious. Shizuku turned her head in the direction the voices were coming from to see a young man and woman. The man was sitting in a chair, gazing at Shizuku, while the woman yelling at him had long black hair. Her back was turned away from the bed, but Shizuku got the feeling she’d seen her somewhere before, and she searched her memories for where that could have been. Before she was able to find an answer, however, the man pointed at her. “She’s awake.” “You should have told me sooner!” The woman hurried over to Shizuku’s bedside in a panic. As soon as she turned around, Shizuku had found herself entranced by her beauty—like that of a white flower blooming in the moonlight. Shizuku looked up at her eyes, which were even bluer than gemstones. “Uh…Shizuku, was it? How are you feeling?” the woman asked. “…Everything’s sort of fuzzy…” “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Your injuries have been healed, but you’ll need to rest for the remainder of the day.” “Okay…” Shizuku couldn’t think straight at all. As she tried to move some hair away from her face, she noticed that something felt peculiar. Underneath the bed covers, she was stark naked. That was when Shizuku finally remembered what had happened to her. “Oh…” “What’s wrong?” asked the woman. “Does something hurt, by any chance?” “No. I just figured I’d be in a thousand pieces by now.” She knew that some people could survive a fall from a five-story building, but that was only thanks to the medical system her old world had in place. She didn’t know how things worked in this world. In fact, she’d half expected to be left to die, even if she had survived the fall. Yet she couldn’t feel pain anywhere in her body. There was always the possibility that she was experiencing phantom limb syndrome, but the woman had assured her that her injuries had been healed, so it sounded like she was back to normal. The woman grinned at Shizuku. “Your bones were sticking out in all sorts of different places, and your organs were ruptured. I used magic to heal you.” “Thank you very much for that… It sounds like you went to a lot of trouble.” As Shizuku offered the woman this vague expression of gratitude, the man peered down at her. He stared at her so unreservedly that it looked like he was examining some kind of rare animal, and Shizuku couldn’t help but laugh. “So what did you think, Your Majesty?” she asked. “What color was my blood?” “As far as I could tell, it was the same color as anybody else’s. Very disappointing.” Lars smiled at Shizuku, but it was impossible to tell what he was feeling. She wanted to get up, but she wasn’t wearing any clothes. Regardless, the soreness in her joints told her that she wouldn’t be able to move right away, so instead she just smiled as cheerfully as she could. “I’m just glad I betrayed your expectations.” “Sure—but I don’t consider this a defeat.” “Don’t you? I’m not going to concede, either,” Shizuku replied coldly, sticking her tongue out. Undeterred, Lars calmly carried on. “That said, you’ll be keeping a low profile for the time being. Thanks to your brazenness, everyone’s disgusted with me.” “Of course they are, Lars. You need to take some time to calm down,” the woman said curtly, and Shizuku finally remembered where she’d seen her before. They’d been in the transit ring hall in Candela, and Shizuku had caught a glimpse of her just before teleporting out. She was the younger sister of the king of Farsas. Shizuku stared intently at the two royals, and Lars couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at her lack of shame. “It’s not a crime to be suspicious, you know. Every single day, I suspect that someone might have snuck some carrots into my meal,” said the king. “Don’t admit that in public. You’re embarrassing yourself,” his sister remarked. “What’s wrong with carrots? They’re really nutritious,” Shizuku added. “Returning to the original point,” said the king, “you’re going to be detained for a short while. You can work for me.” Shizuku slowly took in what the king was saying, then forced a grin. “I see. We’re going into overtime.” As Shizuku later found out, the king had instructed a mage to soften the impact of her fall somewhat; however, that had only been enough to lessen the impact to her head. The aftermath of Shizuku’s jump was said to have been so gruesome that one court lady who’d witnessed it ended up fainting. Shizuku felt bad about that, but she knew Lars was also partly to blame. In fact, it seemed as though many people had turned their critical gazes on the king. Leuticia, who’d returned to the castle just in time, had healed Shizuku’s severe injuries—and during this process, every inch of her body had been thoroughly examined. Rather unsurprisingly, they reached the conclusion that she was, in fact, a human being. “What happened to Erik? Can’t I see him?” Shizuku asked Leuticia after Lars had left. The other woman forced a smile. The look on her face didn’t tell Shizuku much. “He’s in another location, under house arrest. The truth is that his wrongdoings are, officially speaking, more serious than yours. From what I’ve heard, he was very close to committing treason.” “…Huh?” “But everyone knows that my brother was in the wrong. His freedoms are limited for now, but he’s not wanting for anything. Don’t worry about him.” It didn’t sound like seeing Erik was a possibility. Feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment, Shizuku went to the room she’d been given, took a bath, then changed into some new clothes. Mea, back into her girl form, dried Shizuku’s hair for her. “Are your wounds okay, Master?” she asked. “Yeah… I’m sorry for dragging you into all that, Mea.” “As long as things turned out the way you wanted them to, I’m happy.” Her simple words surprised Shizuku. True enough, she’d found herself in what was as close to the best-case scenario as she’d envisioned. Shizuku had gone from fearing imminent death if she were discovered to working under the king’s supervision. While she was grateful that Mea saw this as a good outcome, she also couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as well. As she sat on the bed, Shizuku looked up at the demon girl drying her hair. “If magic is commonplace in this castle, then you should stay in your current form.” “I like perching on your shoulder, though.” “I know, but it’s good that you have a choice.” That had been the first step—they were able to start moving forward again. Shizuku would begin working in the castle the following day, and she reflected on the hectic events of the day before. “He said that Erik…had been involved with a forbidden curse.” Lars had leveled this accusation against him when Erik had confronted the king during their meeting, trying to give Shizuku a chance to escape. Had he really had a hand in a forbidden curse? He’d always seemed so disgusted by the very idea of them. It was hard for her to imagine Erik doing something like that, but she still didn’t know anything about his past. There were a few other questions playing on her mind. What were those beings that Lars was so concerned about? What was the truth behind the incidents that had transpired 240 years earlier? Everything felt like a mystery. Whenever she tried to think things through, she got overwhelmed. Still, she was only just getting started. If she kept struggling forward, the things she wanted—as well as a home to go back to—might one day be within reach. Once Mea had finished drying her hair, she lay her tired body down on the bed. She knew she wasn’t going to have any dreams that night. She could just feel it. Harve greeted the soldiers on guard, then knocked on the door. After a short delay, a response came from inside, and Harve opened the door with a strained smile. Immediately, he shared the news that he knew his friend was dying to hear. “Sounds like they saved the girl.” “Oh,” was all the young man sitting by the window replied, and Harve sat down in a nearby chair. “I’ve always known you’re reckless, but she’s just as bad. I’ve never seen someone argue with the king, then jump from a tower before.” “She’s stubborn like that. You never know what she’ll do when she’s angry. It’s scary.” Erik’s tone of voice was indifferent, but he’d calmed down a fair bit. When Harve had mentioned that Shizuku jumped off a tower, Erik had glared at him with a piercing look, but that, too, had dissipated by now. “In the meantime, she’s going to work for His Majesty. It’s a nice way of saying she’s under surveillance, I guess. I don’t understand what’s so odd about her.” “Me neither. That said…does the word interloper mean anything to you?” “Interloper? You mean, like an outsider?” Erik frowned. Judging by Harve’s reaction, he wasn’t familiar with the term. Erik couldn’t work out what was really going on. Was there a secret that only the royal family were privy to? Farsas had a long history and a powerful royal family, which was also perhaps why they possessed more confidential documents than any other nation. The internal conflict among the royals that had unfolded sixty years earlier was just one such event in which almost all the associated documentation was sealed away. To access these sealed records, you needed permission from the royal family or to be accompanied by a member of royalty viewing the records. To make things even more difficult, there were only two individuals who were recognized as direct descendants of the Farsas royal family—the king and his sister. For a moment, Erik wished he’d asked her for more help with his research—but then a self-deprecating smile appeared on his face. It was a stupid fantasy. Even if he could turn back time, there was no way a mere mage would be allowed to view those sealed records. And most importantly, she wasn’t around any longer. Katiliana Til Rosa Farsas was dead. Erik knew that better than anybody. There was no such thing as green tea in Shizuku’s new world. The most basic sort of tea resembled black tea in color but tasted more like herbal tea. She’d once asked what kind of plant it was made from, but Erik hadn’t been sure, so she still didn’t know what the ingredients were. She knew more or less how to make it, though—she’d wanted to know how to make it for herself. “Here’s your tea, Your Majesty,” Shizuku said. “I’ve never been served tea in such a slovenly manner before,” remarked the king. “Did you want me to kneel down and whisk the tea into a lather for you?” “Why would you whisk the tea? To spite me?” “It must be a cultural difference. It’s such a shame that we can’t see eye to eye,” Shizuku replied, feigning remorse. Her expression made it obvious that she wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t concealing her dislike for him—the feeling was mutual, and the fact that she was still speaking with any respect to the king was enough of a compromise for Shizuku. Shizuku, now dressed as a court lady, was just leaving the table when a wadded-up ball of scrap paper whacked her on the back of her head. She scowled. She knew full well who’d hit her. There was only one other person in the room—the lord of the castle. “What do you think you’re doing, Your Majesty?” “Show me your true form.” “Give it a rest already!” Shizuku had the urge to whack Lars with the tray she was carrying, but she managed to restrain it. Farsas’s castle city was hot. It wasn’t humid, but the temperatures were high. Yet despite this, everyone in the castle worked with long sleeves on—and seemed totally fine with it. There was one exception, however. The most powerful man in the country wore simple short-sleeved clothes while he was working. He tended to be lightly dressed not because of the heat, but because it was it easier for him to move around, and although he’d been dressed in more formal attire when Shizuku first met him, she figured he must only dress that way for meetings. The king, who was dealing with some official business in his office, looked down at his documents with boredom. “Work keeps piling up—and now I’ve got a suspicious otherworldly visitor to deal with, too.” “I didn’t choose to come here,” said Shizuku. “If you tell me how to get home, I’ll go back right away.” Shizuku, who’d almost been killed on the spot when they first met, wasn’t just impolite toward the king—she’d adopted a noticeably prickly attitude around him. This didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest, though. She wasn’t technically one of his subjects, so perhaps there was no need for him to reprimand her for it. Erik had described him as an open-minded king, and to some extent, that did seem to be the case. As long as there was no real threat of danger, he seemed to be fairly easygoing. He took a sip of the tea Shizuku had brewed for him. “It’s hot,” he muttered. “Is it? I always drink my tea at that temperature.” “Does that mean you have an unusually high body temperature? Maybe I should conduct another autopsy on you.” “Everyone in the world has roughly the same basal temperature. Do you struggle with hot food and drink, Your Majesty?” asked Shizuku. In truth, she knew that tea in this world tended to be on the colder side. That’s why she’d learned how to brew it herself—so she could make it at her desired temperature. Since she’d become an apprentice court lady under Lars’s supervision, Shizuku’s work involved rising early to clean his office, occasionally serving him tea, and being ordered around like a maid. Her day came to an end just before sunset. The other ladies-in-waiting had been confused by her presence. After all, she’d arrived from another country and been appointed as a court lady after jumping off a tower, so they treated her like she was the king’s favorite and gave her a wide berth. In reality, the king treated her more like his nemesis—but Shizuku kept this to herself in order to avoid any unnecessary complications. “How’s Erik doing, Your Majesty?” Shizuku asked. Lars, who was organizing some papers, looked up at her. “I’ve put him to work in the archives. Lettie’s busy lately, and we’re short on staff, so it works out perfectly.” “Where are the archives?” “Not telling.” “…” Shizuku was on the verge of saying, “I really feel like punching you right now,” but she held back and kept silent. If she were to give in to her violent urges, it might have even pleased the king. She could imagine him saying, “You’ve finally revealed your true form!” The king’s ability to faultlessly steer conversations to his advantage was infuriating enough, but the idea of succumbing to his schemes was even more loathsome. “He’s too lenient on you. I, for one, was hoping to torment you until you cracked.” “I knew your desires were twisted, but you’re also a sadist? I should start calling you the Sadist King.” “What does ‘sadist’ mean?” “It’s what we call people who share the same inclinations as the Marquis de Sade, a renowned writer from my world,” replied Shizuku, being deliberately vague. Lars replied with just a “Hmph.” The look in his pale-blue eyes was as impenetrable as ever. In contrast to Erik, whose emotions were difficult to discern due to the nature of his personality, Lars refused to show how he felt. For him, what he projected on the outside was merely camouflage. “What’s your world like?” he asked. “Apart from the lack of magic and the way civilization has evolved, it’s no different from here.” “Do you have countries with kings that fight one another?” “No… My country is a democracy—nowadays, at least.” “I see. I guess the responsibility and the benefits are spread among the people, then,” the king remarked calmly. He bore sole responsibility for the largest country on the continent, yet he didn’t seem jealous of the way Shizuku’s country worked, nor arrogant about how his was administered. Shizuku stared fixedly at the king’s handsome face. “What’s the problem?” asked the king. “If you want some more jobs to do, I suppose we can go outside.” “Leuticia gave me strict orders not to let you out of the castle, Your Majesty.” “Damn Lettie…,” Lars grumbled, clearly annoyed. There was nothing Shizuku could do to help, though. This was a dispute between siblings. With a lack of anything else to do, Shizuku decided to start polishing the table inside Lars’s office. For a short while, the pair concentrated on their respective jobs in silence—but then Lars abruptly rose to his feet. “All right, let’s go,” he said. “Where to?” “To work. We’re going into the castle city.” “No, but you’re not allowed. I told you that a minute ago.” “If I have a job to do, then that’s that. It can’t be helped, unfortunately.” “Stop being so obtuse!” As Lars spoke, he sped out of his office—and Shizuku hurriedly followed after him. Shizuku had stayed in the castle city for about a week, but she’d been so busy preparing for her meeting with the king that she hadn’t had the chance to do any sightseeing. Hence why this was Shizuku’s first time seeing the city’s famous bell. The pure white bell hung from a seven-story bell tower in the corner of a square, and the sight of it made Shizuku’s jaw drop in amazement. “Whoa. It’s so pretty.” “People claim it can grant wishes. It’s been around for about four hundred years.” “Oh. I guess this is a famous tourist spot.” As Shizuku gazed at the magnificent sight, entranced, Lars marched over to the door on the bottom floor of the bell tower and used a key to open it. The king stepped inside without saying a word, so Shizuku felt obliged to follow suit. It wasn’t particularly spacious inside. All Shizuku could see were a desk, a staircase leading upward, and a magic ring etched onto the floor. “There’s nobody here. What kind of job is this?” she asked. “I’ve been informed that the bell tower’s facilities have begun to show their age, and that those responsible want my permission to fix them. So I’ve come to take a look.” “Why would you, personally, need to pay a visit?” It was a genuine question, but Lars responded by giving her a meaningful look. He stared at Shizuku, who was much smaller than him. “You’re under my supervision. If you stray out of sight without my permission, you’ll be severely punished. Do you understand that?” “I know. I’ve always asked for your permission before going anywhere. What’s the problem?” For now, Shizuku was being allowed to enjoy a small amount of freedom in her captivity. She had consistently informed Lars of her whereabouts, asked for his permission before fetching a glass of water in a bid to dodge any potential complaints, and even stayed close behind him as they made their way to the bell tower. Shizuku couldn’t work out why he was reiterating his rules now, of all times—but Lars just smiled. “Okay, then. Let’s go.” With that, the king immediately started running up the stairs, and in a matter of seconds, he’d reached the second floor and vanished out of sight. Shizuku was dumbfounded. Almost instantly, however, she realized what this meant. “Hey! What are you doing?!” She was not permitted to leave the king’s line of sight without permission. That rule most likely applied when Lars decided to disappear, too. Shizuku frantically ascended the staircase, chasing after the irrational king. She slipped and almost fell a few times on the way up, but she eventually reached the top floor of the tower. Lars was already there, waiting. There wasn’t a drop of sweat on him. When he saw Shizuku, out of breath and drenched in sweat, he gave her a venomous smile. “Where did you go? I didn’t see you.” “I was trying my best to catch up with you… Cut it out before I get mad.” “You’re always mad.” As he spoke, Lars jutted his chin toward the ladder that led to the top of the bell tower. He climbed out first, and once Shizuku had wiped the sweat from her forehead, she followed him. Finally, Shizuku was standing underneath the bell. She brushed away the dirt that had gotten on her hands, then let out a cry of admiration as she took in the view of the city. “Whoa… It’s so pretty.” The beautiful, sprawling cityscape looked even more spectacular from up above. The sight was like something out of an intricately drawn picture book. With the castle standing in the distance, the city looked like the setting of a fairy tale, and it stirred Shizuku’s heart. Meanwhile, Lars inspected the metal fixtures that the bell was hanging from, and as she watched him carry out his task, Shizuku started to feel conflicted. The weight of this enormous city and the lives of all its inhabitants rested on his shoulders. Not only that, but this affluent castle city was only one part of the large nation of Farsas. Shizuku couldn’t even imagine how much pressure Lars must be under. “I suppose it’s no wonder you have such a twisted personality…” “Did you say something, girl-from-another-world?” “Nope. If you’ve started hearing things, you must really need some rest.” “It looks really easy to jump down from this bell tower, you know. Feel free to give it a go. I know how much you enjoy it.” “You never disappoint me, Your Majesty. I am amazed at how unselfish you are that you’d let your own country’s tourist attraction turn into a crime scene. I’ll turn down your suggestion, but I really do appreciate the thought.” There was no handrail, and the ground was a long way down. Shizuku looked over the edge, only to notice a man dressed entirely in black standing in the brightly colored brick square. He looked like a single dark stain on the colorful surroundings. The man was looking at Shizuku. “…!” Shizuku reflexively backed away. The man had been looking at her even before she noticed him. Was that because it was so unusual for someone to be up in the bell tower? Shizuku’s heart began to race. As she stood there, pale with shock, Lars called out to her, having finished his inspection. “Let’s go back, girl-from-another-world. If you want to jump straight down, I’ll meet you on the ground.” “…Thanks for your consideration, but I think I’ll take the stairs like a civilized individual.” “By the way, the first floor is connected to the back of that ladder over there via a transit ring. It’s activated as soon as a living being steps inside.” “Why did you climb all those stairs, then?!” “Just trying to stay fit,” replied the king. “Really? Then you can take your time on the stairs going back down. I’m going to clean up.” Shizuku picked up a broom that was lying in the corner. Without waiting for Lars to respond, she started sweeping away the dirt that had been bothering her. “You might have been running too fast to notice it, Your Majesty, but there’s mud everywhere here, all the way from the ground floor, almost as if someone had walked straight out of a field and into this bell tower. If someone were to run up here, they might slip and fall, so I’m going to sweep it from top to bottom.” “Nobody apart from me and you would run up here.” “I wouldn’t dare if I were alone, either!” Shizuku shouted, but Lars just shrugged and watched Shizuku sweep. “Your mention of a field made me wonder—do they have carrots in your world?” “We certainly do. Tons of them. They’re an important source of carotene.” “That’s a shame. I guess I have no choice but to execute you, then.” “You can’t decide whether someone lives or dies based on whether they have carrots or not. I’ll sneak one into your food.” “Come at me whenever you want. I’ll notice, no matter how hard you try to deceive me.” Making the king eat some carrots really was a tempting idea. Shizuku began to visualize a few recipes—ones that could trick even the most ardent carrot-hating child into consuming their nemesis without realizing it. As Shizuku carefully descended the ladder, sweeping it clean as she went, the king, still atop the bell tower, asked her a question. “Are you frustrated with this situation?” “Yes, it’s unpleasant. It’s nice that you’re giving me clothes, food, and shelter—but really, I just wish you’d see me as a human being.” “Turn back the clock, then.” “It would be quite the feat if I managed to do that, considering I’m not a mage.” The king went quiet. That night, Shizuku remembered that, in this world, not even mages had the ability to turn back time. “How long am I going to have to live like this for?” “Hmmm…” Shizuku’s question brought a sympathetic smile to Leuticia’s face. She had about a thousand times more common sense than her older brother. Of course, mathematically speaking, that would mean Lars’s own common sense would have to be near zero—but as a public figure, the king seemed to be almost faultless. Shizuku wished that his personality had fewer faults, too, but it seemed like everyone close to the king shared the same view. “His Majesty is twenty-seven, isn’t he? If he still has such a deep-rooted aversion to carrots at that age, does that mean his suspicion of me will persist for another twenty-seven years as well?” asked Shizuku. “…I understand where you’re coming from…and I’m sorry,” replied Leuticia. “I wasn’t looking for an apology, just some reassurance.” Shizuku was eighteen years old. In twenty-seven years’ time, she’d be around the same age as her parents. She couldn’t bear the thought of being stuck in Farsas for all that time, and the notion that she could still be bickering with the king after all those years filled her with dread. Shizuku, leaning against the wall of a covered walkway in the castle, let out a sigh. Standing next to her was Leuticia, who was busy dealing with the aftermath of the chaos in Candela, yet she still took the time to check on Shizuku. Regardless, no matter how much Shizuku begged her for help, her older brother’s mind couldn’t be changed. “Not even I can truly understand what my brother is thinking. I could use my influence to keep you safe somewhere, if you’d like; however, you would have to be under surveillance.” “Thanks for the offer, but I doubt the king would be very happy about that. I’ll keep trying with him.” Shizuku had agreed to Lars’s challenge; it was still too early to run. Instead, she asked Leuticia about something else that had been on her mind. “Um, do you know how Erik’s doing? I heard he was helping out with another sort of work.” “He’s working under my supervision. He seems to have a goal of his own he wishes to accomplish, so it’s ideal to have him under my watchful eye.” “An objective of his own?” “The information he’s interested in can’t be publicly disclosed. There are restrictions in place to prevent that from happening.” Shizuku presumed Leuticia was referring to the records about the teleportation incidents that had occurred two hundred and forty years ago, in which case she felt immensely guilty. Since she’d been unable to see Erik, Shizuku hadn’t gotten the chance to apologize to him or seek his advice. Leuticia gave Shizuku a vague smile. “He’ll be finished with his current task soon, so maybe you can see each other after that. I know my brother can be a bother, so I will make sure he doesn’t spot you.” “His Majesty is trying to isolate me…” It had been the king’s aim to keep Erik and Shizuku separated. He’d expected this would force Shizuku to show her true colors, but his assumption was misguided. Shizuku looked up at the king’s beautiful younger sister. “What exactly does he think I am?” Shizuku asked. That was something she still had no idea about, which made it harder for her to argue back to Lars. Leuticia hummed in thought at Shizuku’s rather obvious question. “That’s a secret known only by the direct descendants of the Farsas bloodline. In truth, nobody but my brother is allowed to tell anyone about it…but since you’ve already been implicated, I’ll give you a brief explanation.” “Please do.” “You said you were from another world, didn’t you? The thing is, you’re not the only one who’s come from elsewhere.” “Huh?! There are others?! How did they come here?” “I don’t know, but they’re meddlers. There’s a legend that says the royal family of Farsas must be the ones to eliminate them.” “Meddlers…” What did Leuticia mean by that? As far as Shizuku was aware, she hadn’t done any meddling since arriving in this world—she was far too small and insignificant for something like that. She hated the idea that she’d been lumped in with them just because she was an outsider, and she could feel herself growing resentful toward them, despite not even knowing what they were. “But why do they need to be eliminated? What kind of ‘meddling’ are we talking about here?” she asked. “The ordinary kind. They toy with and observe us. That’s why they must be eliminated. We’re proud… Proud to be human.” Shizuku couldn’t really grasp what Leuticia was saying. Couldn’t she explain things in a way that Shizuku could understand? Perhaps she needed Lars’s permission to do so. Still, in some small way, Shizuku could grasp what Leuticia was hinting at. Human beings had their own sense of dignity. In her own roundabout way, Shizuku had found herself in her current predicament for that very reason. “I don’t know what to do…” It had been a few days since Shizuku had arrived at the castle, and she was lying in the courtyard, enjoying her first afternoon break. Mea lay beside her on the grass looking up at the sky. They had just finished sharing some tea and sweets they’d brought with them, and they had decided to bask in the sunlight for a while. Mea, whose green hair was spread out on the grass, softly spoke. “But you’re trying your best, Master.” Shizuku had been tossed into an unfamiliar environment, yet she was still fighting on. Although she was glad Mea could see that, it still felt like she was dragging everybody into this mess for her own sake. She wished she could see the finish line, but it felt like she could end up being berated by Lars for another twenty years if she made one wrong move. Shizuku had been given a break this afternoon only because Lars had decided to test her swimming skills by pushing her into the castle moat. Unsurprisingly, she’d come out looking like a drowned rat, garnering pity from those around her. The king had subsequently announced that she could take the rest of the day off, saying that he was getting complaints from everyone. Shizuku yawned as she watched the clouds drift by, when suddenly she noticed a shadow looming over her. She looked over at its source to see Harve, the royal mage, who smiled and waved at the girls. “How are you doing?” he asked. “I’m being mercilessly picked on. What are the chances he’ll suddenly give up and decide to execute me, regardless of how hard I’m trying?” “I—I highly doubt that would happen… But I can’t make any promises.” “Make sure to keep records about me, okay? Don’t let them pretend I never existed.” “As a history specialist, I can almost guarantee that it would be covered up.” “Arghhh! The class system sucks!” Shizuku sat up, head in her hands, and Harve planted himself down beside her. “I brought some snacks,” he told them, giving Mea and Shizuku a paper parcel each. They opened the small packages to reveal a few cookies in each. “If it’s getting to you, then you should be able to leave the castle. You’ll be supervised, but I doubt it’ll be any worse than that. If you wait in the castle city, Erik will probably find out what you want to know.” Shizuku gave a tight smile. That would mean accessing information that wasn’t available to the public. “But then it would all rest on Erik’s shoulders. I want to do what I can to help. He’s already done more than enough, bringing me all the way to Farsas!” Harve seemed surprised by Shizuku’s display of determination. He thought to himself for a moment, then gave her a bittersweet smile. “…How much do you know about Erik’s past?” he asked. “Zilch. I know he left home early, but that’s about it.” “Right.” There was a touch of sadness to Harve’s expression, presumably because he did know what Erik had been through. He gazed up at the clear blue sky. “You’ve probably figured this out by yourself, but Erik used to come to the castle here all the time,” Harve told them. “…Was he a royal mage?” asked Shizuku. “Technically, no. He was treated like one, though. I’m only telling you this because anyone who’s been at this castle for more than four years knows this, but Erik used to tutor a member of the royal family.” “Not Leuticia?” As far as Shizuku was aware, Lars and Leuticia were the only direct descendants of the Farsas bloodline, yet Harve’s roundabout way of speaking suggested that it wasn’t either of them. As Shizuku had expected, he silently shook his head. “Her name was Katiliana. The king from two generations ago had a younger sister, and Katiliana was her granddaughter. Perhaps it would be easier to understand to call her His Majesty’s second cousin. Katiliana possessed powerful magical powers, but she struggled to handle them properly. She was around the same age as Erik, but was relatively immature… She was always bored inside the castle.” Harve’s eyes narrowed, almost as if he were peering into the past, and Shizuku envisioned scenes that he’d likely never seen. “One day, Erik was invited to become her tutor. He must have been about fifteen at the time. He didn’t smile much, but he patiently stuck with Katiliana and taught her all about magic. Before long, Leuticia took note of his abilities, and he ended up taking on some troublesome work for her, too.” “Troublesome work?” Harve hesitated over his words for a moment, then gave Shizuku a rather indirect response. “Erik isn’t the kind of person who’d usually become a mage. His powers are lacking, to say the least, but he knows how to use magic, even if only in a simple way. Do you get what I mean by that?” Erik had always insisted that he was lacking in magical power. However, he did have knowledge and skill, so Shizuku had never really worried about what he lacked. She thought things over, then gave what she felt to be a reasonable response. “I get it. He makes up for it with his determination.” “No. Simply put, his spellcasting skills are second to none. He uses the little power he does have as effectively as he can to produce complex spells. Since he possesses such a small amount of power, he has to use complicated spell configurations to accomplish what any other mage could do with a snap of their fingers. It’s such a waste, considering his talent.” “A waste? That sounds really impressive.” To give a crude analogy, it was like he was a machine running on power-saving mode. A feat like that was only possible because of Erik’s advanced technical expertise. What was that a waste of? Harve smiled and furrowed his brow, troubled by Shizuku’s overly sincere comment. “It is impressive. That’s exactly why I think it’s a waste. If he were even just as powerful as I am, he could have gone much further. But… Maybe I shouldn’t be saying these things. Such thoughts lead to destructive temptations.” Why was Harve talking about “destructive temptations” all of a sudden? Picking up on Shizuku’s bewilderment, Harve switched back to a cheerier tone of voice. “So yeah. Leuticia thought highly of Erik’s spellcasting skills and started giving him jobs to do. At the time, he was even tasked with taking care of documents relating to forbidden curses.” “Forbidden curses?! No way!” It was surprising to hear that Erik had been involved in that sort of work, considering how much he detested forbidden curses. Suddenly realizing how loud she’d been, Shizuku covered her mouth with her hand. Harve just gave her a tight smile and waved it off. “When it comes to forbidden curses, everyone knows that Farsas is in charge. Being the magic kingdom, it’s part of this country’s job to prevent them from being used. The nation retains information about these curses, but it’s tightly sealed away, so only a select few have permission to access those documents.” “Huh… I see.” Now that Shizuku thought about it, Erik had demonstrated a unique level of awareness back in Candela—he’d detected that a forbidden curse was being set in motion and even attempted to put a stop to it. Perhaps his past experiences played a part in that. It made more sense to Shizuku now, and Harve nodded, seeing her put the pieces together. “Erik’s incredible spellcasting abilities let him sort through the forbidden curse files, but rather ironically, he wasn’t powerful enough to put one into practice, which made him the perfect guy for the job. Then, three years after he first came to the castle…around four years ago, there was an incident.” “An incident?” This ominous-sounding phrase had come out of the blue, and a darkness spread across Harve’s expression as he struggled to keep the smile on his face. “Yeah. Katiliana tried to cast a forbidden curse but ended up losing her life in the process. Erik was forced to take responsibility for it and left the castle.” “Huh?” The girl who Erik had once been involved with had been killed by a forbidden curse. Shizuku hadn’t heard about that before. Her eyes widened in shock. “Is that true? But why…?” “Unfortunately, it is true. He probably avoided talking about Farsas, right?” “Uhh.” Harve was right. Not only had Erik been avoiding the topic of Farsas, but he’d even given the impression that he didn’t think much of it. As Shizuku struggled over how to answer, Harve let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry—I already know what he’s like. It was the incident with Katiliana that made him like that. Since it involved a member of the royal family, the details weren’t disclosed to people like me, and Erik hasn’t spoken about it, either. Honestly, I didn’t think he needed to take responsibility for it, but there’s no changing the fact he was Katiliana’s tutor. In the end, he went back to his old country.” Shizuku found herself at a loss for words. True enough, there had been several moments during their journey when she’d detected a hint of sorrow from Erik, like when they’d spoken about Farsas, forbidden curses, or the royal family. Looking back, those topics must have reminded him of what happened to Katiliana. Perhaps his past experiences could also explain why he was so sympathetic toward Lyshien, who—despite being a princess—longed for an ordinary sort of happiness. “After everything that happened, I didn’t expect him to show his face in this country ever again. Yet here he is—and he brought you with him.” Harve closed his eyes, concealing that reminiscent gaze, and smiled weakly. Shizuku could still detect a hint of bitterness in it, though. “His Majesty has put you in a terrible situation, but you’re still trying your best. That’s very impressive… I also get the impression that you’re the one keeping him standing. I know it’s not my place to say that, but still.” “…No, it’s fine.” Erik had gone through all sorts of hardships because Shizuku wanted to get back to her old world, but for the time being, she couldn’t allow herself to give in. She couldn’t just wait around in her comfort zone. She had to prove her own innocence. “I haven’t lost yet—not by a long shot. I’m going to win this fair and square; just you wait.” Regardless of what had happened in the past, Shizuku still had some options available to her. That was why she had to do everything she could to keep moving forward. That was what she’d decided to do. Harve laughed awkwardly as Shizuku’s eyes blazed with determination. Then he stood up and brushed the grass off his mage’s robes. “I’m sorry, I’ve said way too much. Feel free to come to me for advice if anything’s troubling you.” “Thank you so much!” Shizuku waved at Harve as he walked way, then she lay back down on the grass. The pleasant weather made her want to take a nap, but she knew she’d end up getting sunburned or suffering from heatstroke. After enjoying the sunlight for a little while, Shizuku abandoned that idea and decided to get up, but just before she could, she heard an unfamiliar man’s voice calling out to her from a distance. “Are you a court lady? What are you doing there?” “Uh, I was just taking a break…” Once Shizuku had leaped to her feet in a panic, she saw someone striding over to her from one of the castle buildings. The man, who was in his thirties and wore a dark-green robe, wasn’t someone she recognized, but since he was dressed like a mage, Shizuku assumed he probably worked for the castle. He stared at her squarely in the face, scowling. “It’s you,” he spat. “The troublemaker that other troublemaker brought along with him.” “A troublemaker? Well, I am one of those,” Shizuku replied. Shizuku was a royally certified troublemaker, yes—but this man was making it sound like Erik was one, too. According to Harve, some people had a poor impression of Erik simply because he’d been involved in an incident to do with forbidden curses. Even if, on an emotional level, Shizuku wanted to object to such negative opinions, she wasn’t in any sort of position to talk about past events. So she held her tongue and stood up straight. “I’m sorry. I’ll go back to my room.” She gave the man a polite nod, then walked past him, with Mea following close behind. She could hear the man snort scornfully behind her back. Still, she refused to turn around, and she went back inside the castle with her head held high. The final volume was unusually thin, and Erik pulled it off the bookshelf and flipped through its pages. There was no need for him to search the entire book—he was just checking to see whether it contained the information he needed, so the chapter titles were sufficient. As he’d half expected, it contained none of the information he was looking for. There were no records of the strange goings-on from two hundred and forty years prior in this room, either, and Erik put the book back on the shelf with a hint of a frown. “Nothing here, was there?” He suddenly heard a woman’s voice coming from behind him. He didn’t need to look around to know who it was, and Erik silently shook his head. “I didn’t think you’d believe me unless you saw it with your own eyes. I’m sure my brother will reveal all once his mind’s been put to rest.” “I wonder about that. I’m not getting my hopes up.” “I wouldn’t tell you something I didn’t believe.” “You never know when he’ll actually be satisfied, though.” This comment seemed to hit Leuticia where it hurt, because her beautiful face contorted into a scowl. She was the only person in Farsas who could openly reprimand the king, but there was a difference between scolding someone and having them actually listen to you. In the past, a certain young girl had frequently reminded him of that—but upon meeting Lars face-to-face, he was shocked by how wearisome he truly was. His penchant for coldhearted and drastic decisions was difficult to reconcile with his public reputation and competent management of domestic affairs. He might not have said it directly, but he’d still urged Shizuku to jump off the top of the tower. When Erik caught wind of this, he was too scandalized to speak. Erik had been allowed to view the royal family’s sealed records under the condition that he sort the archives here, and he let out a deep sigh. “If the king has no intention of telling me the truth, I wish he’d hurry up and admit it. Then I can get out of this country and take her with me.” “That won’t be possible.” “If me seeing these documents will prove problematic, then you could just wipe my memory.” “That’s easier said than done. Memory manipulation is a challenging form of magic.” “It shouldn’t be a problem for you, though.” This unreserved retort made Leuticia gently raise her hands in apparent surrender. The room was small, but tightly packed rows of books covered every inch of the walls. As Leuticia looked around at the countless documents, she forced a smile. “There’s another reason why I let you view these records. I didn’t think you’d make peace with what happened four years ago…with what happened to her…otherwise. I wonder if some of your doubts have been put to rest.” Katiliana. That forgotten name came flooding back into Erik’s mind—along with the facts that he’d been oblivious to at the time of the incident. Still, even if the sealed records did reveal the truth to him, there was no changing the past. “Is there really any point in putting my doubts to rest after all this time?” he asked in a flat tone of voice. “Not really. If it wouldn’t mean anything to you, then I suppose it’s insignificant.” For a moment, Erik saw a crack in Leuticia’s smile. Through it, he caught a glimpse of something reminiscent of a freezing cold night. Regardless, Erik’s expression remained the same. He turned back toward the shelves, intending to sort through the books, when the voice of a graceful, strong individual reverberated through the cramped room. “Once your work here is done, I want you to compile an investigation report for the forbidden curse incident in Candela.” “Why me? It’s not like I went to deal with the aftermath.” “You were there, weren’t you? Your employment documents were still lying around, and most importantly, there was a magic ring in the basement. I could easily tell who’d drawn it.” Leuticia had figured it out. Having seen that coming, Erik reluctantly raised a hand to signal his understanding. People tended to formulate their spells in recognizable ways, so he knew there was a chance that Leuticia would recognize his work. If he kept obeying her orders, she’d just make him do whatever she wanted. Now that he finally had limited access to the sealed records, he needed to uncover something that would help to level the playing field. Erik took a thin book from the shelf. “Come to think of it, when the mad king was overthrown sixty years ago, leading to twenty-five years of infighting within the Farsas royal family…the records mention a man who was involved in the conflict, on and off. His name and identity aren’t documented, but it claims that he enslaved the royal family’s mystical spirits, albeit only temporarily. That suggests that he was directly descended from the Farsas lineage, does it not? Who was that man?” Erik didn’t think this had anything to do with the information he wished to uncover—he’d just brought it up because he found it peculiar. Only individuals who were within five generations of a former king were considered direct descendants of the royal line, but there was no trace of such a man in the family tree. What’s more, only direct descendants had the ability to command the royal family’s mystical spirits, yet records stated that two of them had followed this man’s orders. Who was this hidden member of the royal family? Was he, like the witch whose records had been concealed, a part of Farsas’s undocumented dark side? Erik’s question, which his tentative research had brought him to, made Leuticia go quiet for a little while. He wondered if she would leave the archives without saying a word, but then she gave him a single-sentence answer. “The answer to that is most likely the same answer you’re trying to uncover.” Leuticia smiled at him, but her face looked like a mask. The Farsasian royal family had a long history. Farsas was a nation that revered the wielder of Akashia, the royal sword, as king. As such, every member of the royal family born there was expected to embody that same strength needed for a Farsasian king. The royal family had produced an abundance of exceptional swordsmen and unparalleled mages; however, over time, this desire to retain power no matter the cost had led them to intermarry. This had most likely been what led to the events of sixty years prior, when one king suddenly descended into madness and massacred his blood relatives. That man, who transformed the hall of Farsas Castle into a sea of blood, was named Dysral. Wielding Akashia, he cut down forty-one members of his own family and twenty-two of his vassals, until his surviving relations brought the king’s life to an end—removing him from the royal throne by way of death. After the king was killed, further discord and suspicion took root among the royal family, ushering in a twenty-five-year period of darkness and infighting. At the center of this unrest was Dysral’s niece, Princess Crestea, who was claimed to be the strongest mage of her time. However, her actions during that dark period of history…were not chronicled in any public records. “…But you know what I think? If the king of Farsas, the master of Akashia, is supposed to be powerful, then Dysral exemplified that better than anyone else. Why, then, do his great achievements have to be hidden? As a king, he enjoyed victory after victory and destroyed opponent after opponent. It’s just a shame that it culminated in the killing of his own relatives.” The man, dressed in a dark-green mage’s uniform, sounded drunk. Thanks to the candlelight, the room they were in was brightly lit, and Aviella couldn’t help but crack a smile as she listened. “Yeah. The Farsasian royal family must see Dysral’s madness and the ensuing conflict as a part of their past they’d rather erase, but there’s no point turning a blind eye to it and suppressing the truth. If people don’t know what happened, then history will one day repeat itself.” Aviella stroked her red book, which was lying on the table. She always had it by her side. Even when she had been manipulating her group of heretics back in Candela, that book had never been out of reach. The man—oblivious to Aviella’s past undertakings—must have been pleased by her response, because he reacted with an exaggerated nod. “Farsas is losing out by choosing to shun its former king, Dysral. They should’ve surrendered to his power, rather than fearing it. It’s their fault that now there are only two direct descendants of the family line left. Both of them happened to have been born after the conflict was over, and neither of them are powerful enough to rule the magic kingdom. They need to undergo a lot more training if they want to become worthy royals. For the twenty-five years that followed Dysral’s demise, the royal family tried their best to better themselves. It was a fitting sacrifice—yes, that’s how Princess Crestea put it.” The man, who’d said the name of the princess whose existence had been wiped from all records, was intoxicated by his own words. His vision was hazy, preventing him from seeing things clearly. The only remaining descendants of the royal family, Lars and Leuticia, were both already strong. Although they were born after the dark period was over, they’d worked relentlessly to acquire the strength that a Farsasian royal was supposed to have. Yet this man, who worshipped the former king, didn’t seem to realize that—so Aviella used his ignorance to her advantage. She’d have to contend with the magical powerhouse of Farsas sooner or later anyway. “In that case, you should give the current king a test. That forbidden curse I told you about was just what you hoped it would be, wasn’t it?” “Yeah. His Majesty still hasn’t noticed. And I even gave him a clue…” “That’s the way. The fact that you raised a concern with the royal family, despite knowing you could be executed for it, proves you’re a loyal subject.” “My actions won’t be exposed anytime soon. There’s another nuisance in the castle at the moment.” A hint of scorn appeared in Aviella’s gaze, but she promptly painted a bewitching smile on her face and glanced behind her. There stood a man in black clothing who’d been silently listening to the pair’s conversation. She gave the man an order. “Elzard, go and lend them a hand for a little while. There are too many things that Farsas has forgotten. It’s time those who were relegated to the shadows of history jogged their memory.” Her side hurt so much, it felt like it was going to tear apart. She clapped her left hand to her ribs and pushed her leaden legs forward with nothing but sheer determination. Her throat was uncomfortably dry, and she was struggling to breathe properly. She screamed so loudly, it felt like her chest was going to burst, and the agony that ensued made her want to collapse. Shizuku turned down a narrow path in the middle of the grove of trees. She approached a shady corner and staggered toward a solitary tree; she was reaching her limit. As soon as she placed her hands against it, her entire body weight sagged against the trunk, and without a word, she threw up the contents of her stomach. It wasn’t until then that the man who’d left her behind came back, presumably having noticed she was gone. “At your limit already? You’ve got zero stamina.” Lars didn’t sound annoyed or condescending but was rather matter-of-fact about it all. Shizuku was so close to passing out that she couldn’t argue back verbally, yet her mind was screaming at him that he couldn’t be serious. That morning, when Shizuku had reported to the king’s office as she always did, the king had announced that they were going for a run. Her eyes had boggled as she struggled to take in what he was saying, but this being a royal order, she was obliged to go along with it. So Shizuku had done as she was told and changed into the kind of linen tunic a young soldier would wear, then followed Lars outside. There, she’d ended up running thirty laps of the castle. “I’m on the brink of death here…,” she said to herself. She had been trying to build up her stamina—after all, she’d done nothing but run around since arriving in this new world—but there was a limit to what she could handle. She’d always been terrible at long-distance running, and to top it off, she was having to keep up with Lars, who ran at an abnormally fast pace and wouldn’t ever wait for her. Shizuku was about two steps away from collapsing. In truth, she wanted nothing more than to tumble to the ground, but she managed to stop herself. Instead, she languidly crouched down and looked up at the king, who was standing beside her. “Why did you want to test my stamina? You already dissected me once…” “You kept up with me pretty well when we were climbing those steps. I guess you’re good at leaping into action on the spur of the moment.” “Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses…” Shizuku wanted to punch him, but she didn’t have the strength. Her shoulders heaved as she breathed deeply and stared at the grass at her feet. Trails of lukewarm sweat trickled down her back and dripped from her bangs, falling onto the green grass. As she steadied her breathing, Lars gave her a light tap on the head. “I have my own work to do. One more lap, and we’ll call it a day.” “You want to keep going…? You really are such an unruly, energetic king…” “Well, yes. My job demands it of me.” The king immediately set off running again, and Shizuku followed after him, dragging her worn-out body along with her. It might have been their final lap, but Shizuku was in no fit state to run at all. She had to force her legs to move as she proceeded at a walking pace. Lars must have realized that he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on her if he shook her off, so at long last, he started walking one step in front of her. The pair, who’d been fighting like cats and dogs since the moment they met, silently approached the back of the castle. As Shizuku wordlessly walked between the castle walls and a thicket of trees, she suddenly pointed to a white building in the woods to her left. “What’s that?” she asked. She’d been curious since spotting it earlier. It was a striking building that looked more like a shrine than a storehouse, but it wasn’t particularly large—about the same size as a cabin. The square structure had no windows, and if it had a door, it must have been on the other side. Lars looked in the direction that Shizuku was pointing. “That’s the royal mausoleum. It’s where the caskets of generations of kings and queens are enshrined.” “So they’re not cremated? Are their bodies buried in the ground?” “Their bodies are just beautifully preserved and put into caskets. They’re not buried.” Shizuku, whose breathing had returned to normal, nodded in reply. She had no strength left in her legs but still managed to place one in front of the other. As far as Shizuku was aware, Lars was the 30th king, so doing some rough calculations, she figured there could be as many as fifty-eight caskets in the mausoleum. It was hard to imagine that many urns being squeezed into such a small building, let alone caskets, so there had to be more space underground. Shizuku knew that ghosts didn’t exist in this world, which might be why she was able to stare right at the building without being the least bit afraid. “Will you end up in there eventually?” she asked Lars. “I suppose so. It’s about time we had the place expanded. Those caskets take up so much space.” “If you cremated people and just kept their ashes, you’d save yourself a lot of room. That’s how we do it in my country.” “We can’t make cremation the norm. What if someone was poisoned to death and we lost all the evidence?” Lars’s reply was so forthright that, for a moment, Shizuku almost missed it, but she soon found herself taken aback by his unsettling hypothesis. Were those kinds of dangers something the king constantly lived with? To Shizuku, it seemed far-fetched, but perhaps that was just a normal part of life for Lars. She couldn’t help frowning. Shizuku hadn’t warmed up to Lars at all, but regardless of what was normal for a king, this seemed incomprehensibly restrictive. Without realizing it, Shizuku let out a sigh, which made the king turn back toward her. “What’s up?” he asked. “If you have energy to chat, then you have energy to run.” “I’m going to, Sadist King,” Shizuku spat, but she lacked the energy to muster any anger toward him. Shizuku lightly clenched her fists as she slowly began to run. By the time they’d finished their run, it was lunchtime, yet Shizuku couldn’t bring herself to eat anything—she’d already pushed her body to the limit. “M-my body’s wrecked…,” groaned Shizuku as she slumped over the table. She was sitting in the dining hall in a corner of the castle, and everyone there knew why Shizuku looked so defeated. The military officers who’d gone past her and Lars when they were running watched her with sympathy. Lars seemed to view Shizuku as an enemy he didn’t really understand. Ever since she’d been taken on as a court lady, she’d been subject to his abysmal treatment—and it showed no signs of stopping. Three days earlier, she’d been forced to engage in a sword fight and suffered wounds all over her body. Leuticia had healed her when she heard about Shizuku’s bruises, but the dark red welts were nowhere near gone. How long would it take for the king to be satisfied? Would Shizuku end up buff, or would she die from exhaustion before she got to that point? It was difficult for her to judge that herself. Lars tended to join her in whatever grueling pursuit she was made to endure, but she’d never even seen him out of breath. Shizuku wished she could get revenge one day, but at this rate, it seemed like no physical punishment would affect him. “This situation is really grating on me…,” she muttered to herself. “You’re just the same as ever,” a voice replied. Someone slammed their cup down on the table. It wasn’t the thunking sound that made her jump but the voice. “E-Erik!” “Long time no see,” Erik replied calmly. He remained standing, wearing his usual inscrutable expression. However, there was something about him that looked different. He wasn’t dressed in his usual mage’s traveling clothes—instead, he was dressed in the same light-blue robe that many of the royal mages wore and carried a thick folder of documents. Seeing this reminded Shizuku of his current situation, which made her let out a sigh. Still, she hadn’t seen Erik since their meeting with the king. Shizuku wondered where to start—then pressed both hands down on the table. “I’m so sorry!” “No, don’t,” he said coolly. Shizuku had bowed her head low, and she hesitantly looked up to see his sincere concern. “How are you feeling?” he asked. “Uhh…I’m okay. In fact, I think I’m getting stronger.”
Chapter 24
54 min read