Chapter 25

“If it gets to be too much, then tell Leuticia or Harve. They should be able to help you out.” It was tough, but the training wasn’t enough to kill her. What she was going through was unreasonable, but she could still put up with it. The challenges Lars was giving her were right on the limit of what she could endure. She knew she was being tested, so she was determined to accept whatever he threw her way; otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. Erik noticed the glimmer of determination in Shizuku’s eyes, and at last, his expression shifted. He furrowed his brow slightly as he looked down at her. “You can be astoundingly stubborn at times. I thought I knew that, but you’ve outdone yourself this time.” “I’m really sorry…” Erik must have been referring to her leap from the tower. His response was a perfectly natural one, so she bowed her head again. From Erik’s point of view, he’d given her an opening to escape during their meeting with the king in order to save her—and Shizuku’s actions had rendered his sacrifice pointless. It would be understandable if he were to get mad at her. Yet he didn’t. Instead, her bow was met with poignant words of reassurance. “I’m not angry. I was just worried.” “Erik…” Shizuku raised her head and looked into his sympathetic deep-blue eyes. “There are some things you aren’t willing to give up. I hadn’t quite realized that despite how obvious it was… I almost made the same mistake I did in the past.” It felt as if he was breathing a sigh of relief as he spoke. The emotion behind his words was far more profound than it seemed on the surface. As Shizuku sat there, at a loss for words, Erik finally gave her a faint smile. “I’m glad you’re okay.” His voice was incredibly kind, yet there was a hint of tension mixed in with the warmth. Maybe Erik was permanently plagued with regrets about what had befallen the girl he’d once lost. Whether that was the case or not, this was an aspect of his past that Shizuku couldn’t bring up—and so she had no choice but to focus on what she could do. Shizuku remorsefully bowed her head once again, and as she did, Erik took the opportunity to give her a warning. “But don’t push yourself too hard trying to outdo the king, okay? You’ll reach your limits sooner than you realize.” “I’ll keep that in mind.” Shizuku had expected Erik to berate her, but that was all he said. He’d given her plenty of harsh yet honest advice in the past, but he’d barely ever scolded her. She was sure that was just the type of person he was, but that didn’t mean she should take advantage of it too much. “Leuticia has ordered me to go to Candela and compile a written report about the forbidden curse incident there, so I’ll be gone for a short while. If you need anything, tell somebody other than the king. And make sure Mea stays by your side.” “Got it.” “Also, you should do things in your own, unique way. Don’t let other people make you do things like they expect you to. The king probably wants to see your individuality shine through.” Erik tapped Shizuku lightly on the shoulder, then left without taking a seat. The pair’s chance meeting had been a brief one. It was hard to believe they hadn’t seen each other in two weeks, but that was probably the best Erik could manage, given the situation. Shizuku picked up the cup that Erik had left behind. “My own way of doings things, huh…?” What was it that Lars really wanted to see from her? She raised the cup to her lips. With every sip, the faintly sweet tea seemed to wash away her exhaustion. Once she’d finished the drink, Shizuku nodded to herself. “Yeah, let’s try that.” So far, she’d been playing the game in her opponent’s half of the field. It was time to go on the counterattack. Empty cup in hand, Shizuku headed for the kitchen. First, she’d tried communicating with words. When that didn’t work, she’d resorted to putting herself on the chopping block. That was all the effort Shizuku had put into Lars. Ever since then, she’d been undergoing his trials. This time, she was going to do things differently. The freshly made golden-brown pancake gave off a sweet aroma, and Shizuku spread a generous helping of butter on top. In truth, she would have liked to add some maple syrup as well, but she had yet to spot any in her new world, so there was nothing she could do about that. She put it on a tray before it got cold, then headed to the king’s office. “Coming in, Your Majesty,” she announced. The king responded with a lethargic grunt of acknowledgment, and Shizuku pushed the door open. “What’s that?” he asked. “A snack.” Shizuku put the plate down in front of Lars, whose demeanor was completely lacking in warmth. He squinted at the almost perfectly round pancake. “Did you make this?” “Yes. The only ingredient in it is my resentment toward you, so please, enjoy.” “That’s not true. It obviously contains flour.” Lars picked up the knife as he spoke, then lifted some of the fluffy, plump pancake to his mouth. Shizuku watched him intently. She knew he’d notice something was up if she stared too hard, so she tried her best to seem normal. The king chewed the simple pancake in a sophisticated manner, then swallowed it. A moment later, he looked up. “You put carrots in this, didn’t you?” he said. “How could you tell?!” “It tastes like carrot. Obviously.” “But the chunk I used was just the size of my pinky! And it was grated into tiny bits!” “You’re so naive. Did you really think it would be that easy to fool me?” Shizuku groaned. Her scheme had been foiled after just one bite; she hadn’t expected the king to notice the carrot that easily, and she had planned to tell him once he was already a good way into it. Disappointed, she slumped her shoulders. “Why would you cook something for me, when you spend every day scowling in my direction? It’s as if you were begging me to suspect something. If you want to get revenge on me, you’ll have to be a little more creative.” “Well, I’m sorry it was so obvious!” “It really was. Do better next time,” said Lars, putting another piece of pancake in his mouth. Shizuku’s jaw dropped. Why was he eating it, despite knowing there was carrot in it? The king continued to eat, an unruffled expression on his face, until before long, only half of it was left. At that point, he finally put down the knife and pushed the plate away from him. “That’s all I can manage. You should eat the rest.” “It doesn’t look like you hate carrots that much,” commented Shizuku. “I do hate them, but it’s been about seven years since I last had any… I thought I’d be able to finish it, but there’s no fighting my distaste for them.” “You should have just thrown in the towel.” Shizuku had braced for the plate being thrown at here, at the very least. Deflated, she took the plate from him and moved it to the table in the corner of his office, then began to eat the pancake she’d made. The flavor that filled her mouth was sweet and airy, and to her, at least, there was no trace of any carrot. Having missed lunch, Shizuku had no trouble devouring the leftovers. “I really enjoyed that,” she said, putting the plate back on the tray. “So shall we get started?” “Get started with what? Where’s this coming from?” “Let’s settle this once and for all. You’ve already confirmed that my body is the same as humans from your world. So next, I’m going to convince you using my words.” This was likely what Erik had meant when he told Shizuku to do things her way. She was going to speak to the king directly, as an equal, having a conversation. This was Shizuku’s way of showing him who she was. The only thing Shizuku had been given in this world was her ability to communicate—so she was going to use it. She stood up straighter, then fixed her gaze on the king. “As I told you before, magic doesn’t exist in my world, but our civilization has progressed further than yours. I believe there are five continents in your world, but mine has even more. They all exist on the same planet.” “A planet? You mean like the ones up in the sky?” “Yes. But so far, we haven’t made it to any other planets that harbor intelligent life-forms. We haven’t been able to observe any other worlds, be they on other planets or otherwise, so we didn’t know this world even existed—or at least, I didn’t.” Shizuku was trying her best to explain and make Lars understand. She’d only avoided trying this before because she had been scared on some subconscious level of sharing her knowledge. “The history of humanity leads us back through the history of our planet. Humans, as we know them today, emerged two hundred thousand years ago through the process of evolution. From that point on, we split up across different continents, acquired knowledge, and built civilizations.” She needed to be as careful as she possibly could—there was a chance that Shizuku could trigger some kind of change in this world if she spread her knowledge indiscriminately. “One other thing that makes my world different is that we don’t have distinct realms like you do. Since there’s no magic—or perhaps, no recognized form of magic—the existence of different planes of existence is not recognized in the era I’m living in. I don’t know whether that’s the reason, but I seem to be immune to your world’s miasma. Erik theorized that since my soul is from another world, it’s not connected to any other realms,” said Shizuku, not even pausing to take a breath. Then, she refocused her gaze on the king. “This conversation needs to stay within these four walls. I’m afraid that it could negatively impact the way things are in your world.” Lars might have had a twisted personality, but he was by no means stupid. He must have understood why Shizuku was making this request, and his response came almost immediately. “So, since your people aren’t able to see our world, there’s no reason why you would be meddling in our affairs. I suppose that’s the point you’re trying to make. You said something along those lines when you were on top of the watchtower, too.” “There’s a possibility that I’m just not aware of that sort of thing. I was a regular student, so I’m not privy to any information that’s been concealed from the masses. That applies to the majority of people from my world. I’m sure people there are treating my disappearance as a mystery… It’s generally unheard of for people to vanish out of the blue.” “Because magic doesn’t exist, I assume,” replied the king. “Maybe you don’t have mages because there’s no magical plane.” “I say that our civilization is advanced, but we’re completely oblivious to this world’s existence. Even if people did know about it, I think we’d come up with a different way of interacting with you. They wouldn’t just send an ordinary person here.” There was a chance that Lars would deem everything she was saying to be a lie, but she couldn’t let that risk stop her from speaking. “By the way, the average life expectancy in my country is just above eighty. And there are three hundred and sixty-five days in a year.” Shizuku exhaled and turned to face the king directly. “Now’s the time for our question-and-answer session. Fire away.” “A question-and-answer session, huh…?” Shizuku had almost expected to be ignored, but Lars actually had some serious questions for her. He scrutinized her intently, then began to speak. “What do people in your world think the human mind is?” “Huh? What do you mean?” That had come from out of left field. Shizuku shifted her focus onto this topic and thought to herself for a few moments, then responded with a question for Lars. “People in this world think that humans are made up of their minds, bodies, and souls, right? Is that what you’re talking about here?” “You’re well informed. Only a certain subsect of mages and academics know that.” “I heard it from Erik.” Lars nodded, seeming to accept this explanation. “That is what I meant, but I don’t want what we think to influence your answer.” His question was more straightforward than any she’d been given at college, but that was precisely what made it so difficult. Shizuku turned it over in her mind. After puzzling over Lars’s question for a short while, she finally formulated an answer. “In my country, scholarly pursuits are broadly divided into the humanities and the sciences—and their takes on your question are different.” “What’s a ‘take’? How do they differ?” “Well, I’m in the humanities, and I’m only just starting out, so take this with a grain of salt…but the main goal of the natural sciences is to explore the connection between the mind and the body. Do you know what a ‘brain’ is?” “The thing inside your head? It’s the organ that processes your thoughts.” “Exactly. In my world, we try to understand the mechanisms behind people’s emotions by studying the brain, which is just another part of the body. This involves determining how various substances are produced in the brain and how they elicit different feelings and moods in people. We also study how these mechanisms change in response to different stimuli. This knowledge enables us to use medications to regulate the chemicals in the brain, which in turn helps us treat mental illnesses.” Lars’s wide-eyed expression was quite a sight to behold. She smiled awkwardly. “Emotions are created by substances?!” he cried. “Yes. It’s not that strange, though, is it? Our blood and flesh are made up of substances, too. Fundamentally, that’s what we humans are made up of.” This was a core concept that couldn’t be disproven. For a moment, Lars seemed to struggle to believe this, but he hid any surprise on his face when he noticed Shizuku watching him. “Continue,” he stated simply. Shizuku fell silent again for a moment. Then, once she’d gotten her thoughts together, she picked up where she’d left off. “However, it wasn’t that long ago that these substance-related mechanisms were discovered. There are plenty of things we still don’t know, so research is still ongoing. Meanwhile, the humanities’ approach stemmed from religion and philosophy and has a history of over two thousand years. That’s the one that I specialize in. Not only does that discipline seem to be more compatible with your world’s ideology, but it’s also the one that discusses the existence of the soul.” “Is the soul not made up of substances?” “We don’t know. Maybe we just haven’t discovered the relevant substances yet, but I think the mainstream view is that the soul is just a concept.” “Souls do exist. Some forbidden curses consume human souls to give them immense power,” Lars argued. His mention of the term “forbidden curses” made Shizuku frown. It reminded her of the incident in Candela, as well as the story about Erik’s past. Lars noticed this change in her expression and seemed to have sensed the reason behind it, too. “If it bothers you, then you should ask him about it yourself.” “Stop reading my mind. It would be bad manners to ask about something like that… Besides, you’re trying to keep us from seeing each other, aren’t you? Using us as slave labor…” “Both of you are being properly remunerated.” “I’m being paid, too?!” This was the first Shizuku had heard about that. She hadn’t seen any compensation so far and, until that moment, had presumed that her clothing, meals, and accommodations were all she’d get in return for her labor and the bullying she had to endure. She’d been working for the king for less than a month, but now that he mentioned it, maybe it was just that her payday hadn’t come around yet. Shizuku was taken aback, but Lars responded matter-of-factly. “It’s only natural that I’d pay you what you’re worth.” “I guess you’re pretty scrupulous for a tyrant…” “You’re the first person who’s ever called me a tyrant.” “You’re definitely tyrannical when it comes to me, at least.” “I’m giving you a thorough teasing, that’s all.” “Don’t try to talk your way out of it.” If the king was aware he was teasing her, Shizuku hoped he would change his ways—but since he didn’t view her as human, there wasn’t really much hope. Shizuku was on the brink of hurling a string of abuse at him, but when the king wordlessly urged her to continue speaking, she stopped herself. “…In the field I’m studying, the mind has many different definitions, depending on the time period and the individual. I can’t remember all of them, though, so I can’t explain them to you.” “Then how would you define it?” “I think it’s what makes us human.” Lars wasn’t taken aback by her prompt reply, but it did trigger a small change in his expression. He fixed his powerful, steady gaze on Shizuku; it was as if he could see through anything. Shizuku wasn’t going to be overwhelmed by that, though. She gently shifted her brown-tinged black eyes toward the floor—but not because she was intimidated by him. “I believe that it’s the mind that sets humans apart from mere animals. The most remarkable potential that we humans have is our capacity for intellect, reason, emotion, and willpower, and to actively use them. That’s what makes us human…don’t you think?” “But animals have emotions and a will of their own, don’t they?” “Yes, but they don’t have reason. Regardless of whether you abide by its logic or not, your capacity for reason has an effect on your emotions and intentions. The struggle between rationality and emotion, having pride in your goals and putting them into action—I think those things are another part of being human.” “Does that mean that humans with no sense of reason are animals?” “If they’re the ones rejecting their own rationality, then yes. At the very least, they wouldn’t be people.” The young girl’s declaration, which could have even been described as scathing, made Lars smile with apparent amusement. Shizuku didn’t know what had pleased him, but he was in a visibly good mood. Still, she wondered why she had to have this kind of discussion with a man like him, and she gave him an annoyed look. “Your Majesty, if you want to talk more about this, can I go and fetch my books? I have loads of different ones.” “No. I want to hear it in your own words.” “Is this an oral examination?!” “Apparently, royal mages do this kind of assessment, as well. I leave everything to Lettie, so I don’t know much about it, though.” “Mages really are the intellectual class, aren’t they…?” Watching Erik always left Shizuku with that impression. Harve said he specialized in history, too, so it seemed like mages in this world doubled as academics. Lars carried on, ignoring Shizuku’s amazed reaction. “But in your world, the mind is nothing but a mass of substances, isn’t it? Why, then, do you study the old way of doing things? What is there to be gained from that now?” Shizuku couldn’t mock him for asking this, and it couldn’t be ignored, either. It was a question that she was constantly subjected to: “What’s the point of studying?” Some people questioned the purpose of perpetual debate that yielded no answers, given that science was gradually unraveling the mysteries of humanity. Shizuku stared Lars squarely in the face. Her personal feelings toward him didn’t come into this. “Your Majesty. Don’t you think there are multiple causes behind how we feel? Even if emotions are created by substances within the body, that’s just one factor. The question of what triggers someone’s feelings and thoughts is a separate issue altogether. So…we humans are still full of mysteries. I enjoy studying, and I have no intention of stopping. Besides, isn’t it interesting to learn about stuff that doesn’t have any practical use?” Even if Shizuku’s efforts ended up being fruitless, she found studying fascinating and thought that was a lovely way to be. With every new thing she learned, she realized just how complex, earnest, and delightfully wide-ranging human thinking could be. Shizuku herself was just standing at the gateway of academic exploration—and yet it was still so much fun. She shrugged gently. “Do you have any other questions, Your Majesty?” Lars fixed his blue eyes on her. His expression was open, but his thoughts were still impossible to read. After a little while, he looked back down at the papers in front of him. “Not really. Today’s a busy day for me, so I don’t have time to hang around with you. As long as you don’t leave the castle, you’re free to do as you please.” “Understood. You’ll have to excuse me, then.” Shizuku bowed as Lars shooed her away with his hand, and she exited the room. As soon as Shizuku stepped out into the empty hallway, a wave of nerves washed over her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “I—I guess that didn’t go too badly…” She hadn’t been unexpectedly struck down by Lars’s sword, at least, and she felt like he’d taken some interest in her world, even if only a little. She wasn’t optimistic that she’d be able to prove her innocence right away, but any progress was good progress. What would she talk to him about next? Shizuku mulled this over as she stepped out into the courtyard, where Mea waited for her. “How did it go, Master?” “I didn’t crash and burn, but I’m not sure whether it went well, either…” Shizuku had done what Erik had most likely been hinting at, but this was Lars she was up against; she couldn’t be too confident in her progress. It was totally impossible to read what the king was thinking or to predict his next move. As soon as Shizuku felt herself beginning to worry, she looked up at the clear blue sky. “There’s no point thinking about it now. I think I’ll get a little exercise and do some jogging, so can you turn back into a bird?” “Okay.” The green-haired girl immediately raised her arms, nodded her head, and transformed into a bird. Shizuku placed her assistant demon on her shoulder, then began jogging around the circumference of the castle, going slightly faster than a walking pace. When Lars had forced her to run, she hadn’t been able to pace herself, but running alone was a good way to lift her mood. At other times of the day, people would have been startled to see Shizuku doing laps of the castle in her court lady attire—but now, there was nobody to be seen. Just as Shizuku had entered a grove of trees at the rear of the castle, Mea let out a warning call, prompting Shizuku to slow her pace. “Huh? What is it?” She looked all around but didn’t know what Mea was warning her about. The next thing she knew, Mea had returned to her girl form and had extended her arms, stepping in front of Shizuku to shield her. The green-haired girl scowled at the greenery that surrounded them both. “What’s your goal this time?” “…You again?” came the voice of a young man, sounding annoyed. A lone man had emerged from the seemingly deserted grove. He was dressed in a dark-blue mage’s robe, like those worn by the royal mages of Farsas; however, Shizuku recognized his face and gray hair. “Gah! What are you doing here…?” she exclaimed. “I’m the one who should be asking you that,” the man retorted bitterly. He was the mage who’d tried to take Lyshien away. Shizuku turned pale. “You were a Farsasian mage all along?!” The man raised his eyebrows slightly, his gaze fixed on Shizuku. His glare almost made her wince—but then, suddenly he broke into a smile. “Hang on, you’re the outsider who jumped off the tower, aren’t you? You’re just as stupid as ever.” “Huh? Yes, that was me. So what?” “Master.” Mea tugged at Shizuku’s clothes, bringing her back to her senses. She’d reacted to the man’s blatant mockery with belligerence, but she couldn’t forget that he was a royal mage. If possible, she wanted to avoid making any more enemies within the castle walls. Shizuku suppressed her internal anger and rephrased herself. “Um, I’m sorry. You’re right, but I would rather not argue with you here. I was just a little surprised. I’ll see you around sometime.” Shizuku casually waved the man good-bye and turned to start running again, but the man called out and stopped her. “If you go any farther right now, you’ll end up in trouble.” “Huh?” Shizuku had already been dragged into her fair share of trouble, but as she looked back over her shoulder, the man warned her again. “Go back. If anything happens to you in there, I don’t intend to stop it. The princess loves entertaining stories.” “The princess?” Shizuku repeated. “You mean Leuticia?” The man didn’t answer, just disappeared into the trees. There was a pause, then Mea looked up at Shizuku. “…It seems like he teleported,” the girl told her. “What? But everything inside the castle is within walking distance…” It was no surprise that a royal mage could use teleportation magic, but it was suspicious that he’d warned Shizuku not to go any farther. She placed a finger on her chin and thought to herself. “Should I go and see what’s there?” “I don’t recommend it. We don’t know what lies ahead,” replied Mea. “Yeah, you’re right.” Shizuku felt awkward retracing her running route, but she was hesitant to completely disregard the man’s advice. She was about to prompt Mea to turn back the way they’d come when suddenly Mea reached out and took Shizuku’s hand. “Master, someone’s coming.” “Gah.” Someone had appeared from the other direction while Shizuku and Mea were deliberating over what to do. If the girls started running, they’d be challenged as soon as they emerged into a clearing. Shizuku and Mea hurriedly hid among the trees. As they waited with bated breath, they heard a single set of footsteps through the grove. “Our preparations are complete. All we need to do now is wait for the right moment.” “I’ll give the core to you. It works the same as last time. You can only pick one person, though, so choose wisely.” Shizuku tried even harder to stifle her breathing. Both of the voices were male, with the first one sounding slightly older, and the second one younger. The older man laughed. “It’s obvious who I’m going to choose—the strongest king that Farsas ever had.” Shizuku didn’t know what they were talking about, but it was alarming nonetheless. Shizuku tried to stay unnoticed, praying that the men would leave as soon as possible. But what followed was an unnatural silence. Just as Shizuku broke into a cold sweat, the younger voice responded. “Do as you please. While the person’s physical abilities may be enhanced, their magical powers won’t come back. There’s no use having a witch around, for example.” “That doesn’t matter to me. What happened to Lady Crestea was a shame, but it’s in the past now.” The pair’s voices started to become more distant, and Shizuku poked her head out slightly from among the trees, glancing at the men as they walked away. One of them was tall and dressed in black, while the other wore a dark-green mage’s robe. Shizuku cocked her head slightly. “Is the man in green that unpleasant guy we met in the courtyard the other day?” she asked Mea. “I think so… He possesses the same magical powers.” “Yeah, I knew it. I feel like I’ve seen the other one before, too.” Something tugged at the back of Shizuku’s mind as she watched the man in black walk away, but perhaps it was only her imagination. She looked down at Mea by her side—only to discover that the color had suddenly drained from the girl’s face. She was shaking slightly, too. “Wh-what’s the problem? Was it something they said?” “No… But that man in black noticed we were here… His magical power was directed toward us.” “Huh?” There had been an unnatural pause. Was that when the man noticed Shizuku and Mea were there? If so, why had he let them go? Did he think that being overheard was no big deal? Shizuku squeezed Mea’s hand in an attempt to reassure her. “B-but what they said was kind of confusing… Like that bit about Farsas’s strongest king.” It would’ve made more sense if there were some sort of tournament to decide who would become king, but the Farsasian crown was passed down through the royal line. Lars was the only person who could be king. The men’s suspicious, clandestine conversation left Shizuku baffled. After waiting a while to make sure they’d gone, she turned back the way she’d come. She was fading out of consciousness. Yet in the land of the royal sword, the three books didn’t make an appearance in her dreams. Nor did she find herself standing in a white room. So Shizuku remained unaware of what had once happened here. She couldn’t unravel the hidden story. “Shizuku? Are you okay?” She could hear a gentle female voice. The woman’s face was so close that, for a moment, Shizuku couldn’t recognize who it was peering down at her. Her features were impeccably sculpted, and those blue eyes shimmered like jewels at the bottom of the sea, leaving Shizuku entranced by their color. Eventually, she realized who she was looking at. “Leuticia! Why are you here…?” “I heard you were in the kitchen,” replied the king’s younger sister, pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite Shizuku. They were in the corner of the castle’s spacious kitchen, and Leuticia gave Shizuku a worried look. “You looked completely out of it just now. Are you sure you’re all right? Perhaps you’re worn out.” “Oh, no, I’m fine! I was just daydreaming while waiting for my baking to finish.” Shizuku pressed her fingers to her temples. She felt like she’d been hovering on the edge of a dream, without actually slipping fully into that state. Feeling dazed, Shizuku gently shook her head and forced a smile. “What have you been doing, Leuticia? You must be busy with the Candela case.” “I am. I’m going there again this afternoon, and I’ll have to stay for some time, so I thought I’d come and see you first.” “Thank you for thinking about me…” Perhaps the two siblings of the royal family balanced each other out perfectly. Still, Leuticia had showed up at just the right moment. Shizuku glanced at the handcrafted clock on the table, then stood up. “Wait a moment. They’ve just finished baking.” “Oh, really?” Shizuku took the iron plate out of the semicircular white stove built into the wall. The iron plate seemed to be under some kind of spell—it wasn’t hot to the touch, nor could it exceed a given temperature. It was Shizuku’s third time using the castle’s high-grade oven, so she’d become fairly accustomed to it. Shizuku transferred the cookies onto a plate. There were no cookie cutters, so they were all just round, and she put the plate down in front of Leuticia. “They’re hot, so be careful.” “May I have one?” asked Leuticia. “Of course. I’m still practicing, though, so I apologize if they don’t taste great,” Shizuku warned her. Leuticia reached out with her porcelain fingers, showing no hesitation. She took a bite out of one of the pale golden cookies, then suddenly broke out in a smile. It was the first time Shizuku had seen that sort of expression on Leuticia’s face—she looked just like an ordinary girl. Shizuku couldn’t help but smile, too. “I’ll go and brew some tea,” she told Leuticia. “I’ll make sure it’s not too hot.” “Thank you. These are really delicious. Are they a snack from your country?” “No, they’re from the east of the continent. I learned how to make them when we were traveling through the region.” Not only did the cookies originate from a faraway country, but they were also the food of commoners. It was no wonder Leuticia didn’t know about them. As Shizuku was pouring lukewarm water onto the tea leaves, Leuticia took a second cookie. “I asked my brother about this, too, but you don’t use much of the technology and knowledge from your own country, do you?” “Not really. There’s a lot of things I know about but can’t use myself, but generally speaking, I’m trying to adapt to the local way of doing things. Still, there are some things that slip through without me realizing it.” Shizuku checked that the tea leaves had unfurled, then started pouring the tea into glass cups. The pink-hued tea had a refreshing aroma. “Erik warned me once that if, by any chance, I were to accidentally trigger a cultural invasion, there’d be no going back. I want to respect your existing culture, and I enjoy learning all about it. Every day, I learn something new.” Whether it was recipes or the history of various nations, Shizuku’s new world was overflowing with knowledge she had yet to uncover, and she felt blessed just to be able to come into contact with it. Her goal was to return to her old world—she didn’t want anything more than that. Shizuku sat down and picked up her cup of tea, and Leuticia gazed motionlessly at her. Her eyes were blue and clear, reminiscent of the endless depths of the sea. Not only did they seem to be scrutinizing her, but it also felt like they could see through anything. Shizuku startled, noticing the other woman staring at her, but before the silence had the chance to turn awkward, Leuticia broke out in a wide smile. “Yeah. You really are like that,” she said. “Leuticia?” “It’s nothing. But…I can see why Erik’s with you, given your personality.” Did Leuticia mean they had similar personalities? Erik did like studying, but Shizuku didn’t think she was as much of an oddball as he was. The king’s younger sister bit into her fifth cookie and proceeded to eat it in an elegant manner, then lightly flicked her fingers. “Doing ordinary things comes naturally to you. For people like us, that can be hard, even when we know what to do…” Leuticia’s remark settled over Shizuku, like something quietly sinking into the dark depths of the sea. When she said “us,” was she talking about her and Lars? Or the girl that the royal family had lost? The fact that the royal family of such a large country had only two direct descendants suggested that there was a lot more to the story, but Shizuku hesitated to inquire further. Instead, she just accepted things the way they were. Leuticia lifted her cup of tea to her mouth and looked wistfully at the plate of cookies. When she noticed Shizuku watching her, she gave a beautiful smile. “That’s nothing for you to worry about. Oh, but keep an eye on my brother. If he gets to be too much to handle, tell me right away. I’m planning on figuring something out for you soon.” “I appreciate your concern, but please let me handle this. Now that I’ve mastered how to use the stove, I’ll be able to make my next move before too long.” “I-is that so? These cookies were already tasty enough.” Leuticia seemed a little put off by Shizuku’s boundless enthusiasm, but Shizuku figured she was just imagining it. Shizuku took one of the remaining cookies. “You can take some back with you if you’d like,” she told Leuticia. “They’re delicious cold, too.” “Are you sure?! Thank you!” Shizuku figured that Leuticia had looked regretfully at the plate of cookies because she was too full to hold any more. Her ever-shifting facial expressions were possibly one of her most innate qualities, and they made her seem younger than Shizuku, rather than older. Shizuku wrapped most of the remaining cookies in pink paper as the chefs observed from a distance. She’d originally baked them so she could practice using the oven, rather than for her to eat herself, and she only needed enough for Mea. As long as the cookies made Leuticia happy, her smile was reward enough. Shizuku passed her the bundle of baked goods. “Um, if you happen to see Erik, please share some with him,” she added hesitantly. Erik was working in Candela, and she didn’t know when she’d get to see him next, but her baked goods could signal to him that she was safe. Leuticia nodded, giving Shizuku a captivating smile. “I’ll make sure of it. Bake me some more when I return.” With that, the king’s beautiful younger sister walked away, carefully carrying the paper parcel. Once Shizuku had seen her off, she turned back toward the magic stove and started working on the dessert she really wanted to make. “Are you trying to trick me?” “No. I’ve just tried looking at things from a different angle.” Lars sat before the carrot-colored cake, and Shizuku almost wondered if he would growl like a dog. But she was proud of what she’d baked. Having asked the chefs which amount of each ingredient to use, her cake had risen well on the first try. Shizuku had cut it into slices, then placed it on Lars’s office desk. To top it off, she’d added a little cream—very little. Insultingly little. “I’m trying out a different approach. Rather than disguising the taste of carrot, I’m trying to get you to appreciate how delicious they are. Go on, dig in.” “What a shamelessly over-the-top idea. I take it you’re trying to get revenge head-on.” “This isn’t revenge—far from it, in fact! I’m taking your health into consideration here. I want to stop you from being so picky.” Lars responded to this claim with a scowl but obediently ate a mouthful of cake nonetheless.