Chapter 15: Winter Fortress II

“You lot, stop standing by the window, and grab somethin’ to eat! More men will arrive at any second! If you don’t hurry, this place is gonna be packed!”

An old woman’s hearty, deep voice thundered across the mess hall. In response to her shouting, the Squires dug into the leftover food with immense vigor.

Hinokaji stuck a finger in his left ear, twisting it around to clean the inside. “Yelling will only give you more wrinkles.”

The old woman walked to the window where Hinokaji had taken up position, wiping her wet hands on her apron. “Oh, be quiet. My face isn’t so delicate that a little shouting will age it.”

Yaina managed the kitchens at Winter Fortress. Since arriving at fifty years old, over two decades had passed. Due to her ample corpulence, her wrinkles didn’t stand out, giving the impression that she hadn’t aged much during this time. She had a bold personality, and when angered, she could be uncontrollably frightening. However, she was an excellent caretaker, cooking delicious food for the Squires who – for many years – had served at this base. Thus, everyone loved her like a mother or grandmother.

Hinokaji – Yaina’s husband – was the oldest soldier in Winter Fortress at seventy-one years of age. Like a decaying tree, his once black hair had turned white. Befitting his age, his wrinkled face also bore numerous, old scars. Since joining the army, he’d worked earnestly, often caring for and training new recruits. Despite having no special achievements on the battlefield, Hinokaji had become a Squire Sergeant due to his conscientious management skills.

“More importantly, what was everyone looking at so enthusiastically?” asked Yaina. “Were there lost treasures lying around the courtyard?”

“Miyahi challenged the lad to a sword fight.”

Miyahi was Hinokaji and Yaina’s only grandchild. Since she’d lost her parents at a young age, they’d adopted the girl, devoting themselves to raising her.

Again?” asked Yaina. “My word, she’s a woman only in appearance. On the inside, she’s still a child.”

“Indeed,” Hinokaji agreed in a somber tone.

Hinokaji was a reasonably skilled swordsman. As a young man, he’d even managed a training studio.

He regretted teaching Miyahi the sword. At the time of her adoption, she’d been a young girl mourning the death of her parents, causing Hinokaji to worry about her. Many women had in interest in martial arts as a form of self-defense, but Miyahi was in a league of her own. Eventually, she’d become skilled enough to defeat grown men with little to no effort. Furthermore, she seemed to have an extraordinary passion for the sword. Often, she would capture her fellow Squires and challenge them to duels, winning almost all of these bouts.

When quiet, she appeared ladylike. Yet when speaking, her brusque tone could have belonged to a man or woman. And when holding a sword, she was unmanageable: a starved, rampaging dog.

“So, who won?” asked Yaina.

“Wasn’t even a competition,” said Hinokaji. “Miyahi knocked the lad’s sword from his hands, and that was it.”

“My, my… Is the young man a coward?”

Glancing at Yaina, who spoke in a disappointed tone, Hinokaji shook his head. “Nah, it only happened because Miyahi forced the duel on him. From my perspective, he moved like an expert, but… Well, when it comes to the sword, he’s worse than a complete novice. He held the thing so languidly, I wondered if he’d ever swung a stick.”

“If you say so, that must be the case. But if he’s no good with a sword, Miyahi won’t have any interest in him.”

“Yeah, she looked furious. Easy to understand, that girl.”

Miyahi had every right to be angry. In Murakumo, all commoners – even farmers – learned to use a sword as a matter of tradition. From childhood onward, they trained under their parents or in martial arts studios using single-edged swords called Murakumo Blades. These swords were peculiarly designed with bulky metal heaped on the back.

Even if he grew up in circumstances that made learning these skills impossible, a boy would mimic swordplay with a stick. The newly recruited Squire – a young man named Shuou who Hinokaji called Lad – appeared to lack even that experience. As soon as he’d been handed a wooden sword, he’d looked helpless.

“What do you intend to do about the young man?” asked Yaina. “You still haven’t given him a job, have you?”

Both of them looked towards Shuou. Holding the packages he’d received from Miyahi, he was leaving the courtyard.

“I could scrounge up some work for him,” said Hinokaji, “but I’m still wondering how to deal with the situation.”

There were many reasons to feel uneasy about Shuou. First of all, he’d been assigned to Winter Fortress with no forewarning. Despite being treated like a member of the First Army, the wax seal on his stationing directive had belonged to the Imperial Guard’s HQ: the overseers of the Royal Army. That had been enough to raise Hinokaji’s suspicions. Even so, when the young man had actually arrived, his hair had been gray: a color not present in any Murakumo citizens. Moreover, he wore a conspicuous eye patch, seemingly proclaiming himself as some kind of bandit king. In short, he was altogether different from the everyday young man or woman.

Likewise, Shuou had a strange ring to it, sounding subtly different from other common names in the east. At the same time, it also lacked noble refinement. In all likelihood, he was the only person named Shuou in all of Murakumo.

And finally, gifts from young noblewomen had followed right after him.

Even one of these details would make someone stand out in Winter Fortress. With so many unusual circumstances overlapping, it was no wonder the others surrounded him from afar, whispering rumors to one another.

What was his upbringing? Why had he joined the army, and why was he stationed here? What was his relationship with these young noblewomen?

Though he wanted answers to these endless questions, Hinokaji had grown cautious in his old age, unable to broach a single one of these topics. Knowing about Shuou’s involvement with nobles made it all the more difficult.

“Poor soul,” said Yaina, showing motherly concern for the isolated Shuou. “Since arriving, the life’s been sapped right out of him. Find some way to help out the boy.”

Though he wouldn’t say it aloud, Hinokaji felt the same way.

“Not too long ago, I sent a letter of inquiry to the capital about how to proceed with the lad,” he said. “Until I get an answer, let’s wait and see what happens.”

Following his unexpected arrival, Hinokaji had sent a letter asking if the placement of this mysterious, new Squire had been an error in documentation. He didn’t know if the military’s top brass would respond to a mere Squire Sergeant, but it was better than doing nothing.

Before long, Miyahi appeared in the mess hall, quietly sitting at the same table as Hinokaji. Shuou arrived a little while after her. Holding his tableware, he searched for a place to sit, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Realizing this, Hinokaji beckoned for him to join their table.

“You don’t mind?” asked Shuou.

Upon receiving confirmation, he sat next to Miyahi.

“That was rough, huh?” said Hinokaji.

Shuou glanced at Miyahi for only a moment. “Not at all,” he answered.

“When it comes to the sword, Miyahi tends to lose her cool,” said Hinokaji. “Well, just pretend you encountered a crazed attacker and forget about it.”

In response, Miyahi immediately expressed her dissatisfaction. “Don’t compare me to some criminal, Gramps!”

“Looked the same to me. Tossing over a wooden sword and challenging someone to a duel isn’t something a lady should do.”　

“That’s unfair… I mean, he’s always showing off while he works out. Of course I’d have high expectations.”

The boy wasn’t flaunting his training. He simply had nothing else to do, Hinokaji knew.

“You can’t push your own expectations onto someone and then be disappointed,” he said.

Displeased with her grandfather’s scolding, Miyahi turned away, pouting her lips. Dispirited, Shuou quietly drank his soup, eyes downcast. Knowing he bore some of the blame, Hinokaji spoke without thinking.

“Have you gotten used to things around here, Lad?”

What a stupid thing to ask, Hinokaji yelled at himself inwardly.

As expected, the young man’s expression clouded over. With only one helpless eye open, he looked at Hinokaji resentfully.

“Please give me a job,” said Shuou. “I’m the only one here who gets to eat without doing anything. So long as that’s the case, I won’t feel like a member of this fortress.”

Sensing the hopelessness in Shuou’s words, Hinokaji couldn’t ignore him.

“Hmm…”

For various reasons, many children of neighboring farmers worked at Winter Fortress. The base had long since surpassed its original capacity. To perform the duties of a checking station and border security, over half of the current Squires were unnecessary. As such, jobs within the fortress had been very specifically subdivided. A shift system had been introduced, and there was even someone in charge of picking up pebbles in the corridors.

Nevertheless, to say there was absolutely no work for a new Squire would be false. For example, the bathrooms were often unsanitary due to the sheer number of people. Drawing water from the well and cleaning the bathrooms was hard labor, and since few Squires wanted to perform these tasks, they would be perfect for a new recruit. Even so, Hinokaji wondered if he could entrust such work to the mysterious, young man sitting in front him.

No matter how hard he tried to imagine it, Hinokaji couldn’t picture Shuou diligently performing odd jobs around the base. Like holding building blocks that would never fit together, an uncomfortable doubt coiled around him.

In the end, Hinokaji simply felt bewildered, unable to understand the source of his hesitation. He still didn’t know how to treat Shuou, the new Squire who’d suddenly appeared from out of nowhere.

As he puzzled over how to respond…

“Sergeant!”

Hinokaji didn’t have time to speak. A Squire burst into the mess hall, his statement completely upending the situation.

“What’s wrong?” asked Hinokaji.

“We have visitors from Aventurine. It’s… complicated.”

“Search their belongings and let them pass. Just like we always do. Why report this to me?”

“Well, all of the visitors appear to be Aventurine nobility. One of them is even claiming to be the prince.”

The chatter in the mess hall died down.

“The prince, you say?” asked Hinokaji.

The sound of many Squires’ footsteps overlapped in the corridor outside the mess hall. Despite receiving no orders to do so, most of the men present had followed Hinokaji. Faced with an event that might dispel their boredom, no one could sit still.

“Did he really introduce himself as the prince?” Hinokaji questioned the Squire who’d reported to him.

“He did. I swear it!”

“Have you ever seen the Aventurine royal family?”

“I haven’t, but… But he had three Brights with him! He’s got to be the prince!”

“Well, I can’t think of any reason for him to lie. Still…”

As a defeated nation, Aventurine had surrendered to Murakumo over five hundred years ago. Ordinarily, Aventurine’s lands would have been seized, their throne forfeited. However, as a vassal state under the jurisdiction of Murakumo, Aventurine had been allowed to keep their royal family under two conditions. First, they would submit to Murakumo the abundant food produced in their nation. Second, they would abandon their right to maintain an army.

The royal family of Aventurine wasn’t forbidden from leaving the country, but they needed permission from Murakumo to cross the border. However, not a whisper of such plans had reached Winter Fortress. As such, Hinokaji harbored suspicions about the prince’s sudden, unexpected visit.

Hinokaji ran down the stairs, his momentum carrying him to the courtyard. Using the inside of the fortress, one could cross over from Aventurine to Murakumo. Normally, however, those traveling between the two countries would pass through the courtyard, which had a direct connection to the entrance.

Opening the courtyard’s sturdy, eastern gates, Hinokaji found a group of three men and one woman standing there. From the left, there were two men and one woman. Appearing to be their leader, another young man stood at the center. All of them bore yellow Sunstones on the backs of their left hands. Likewise, all of them wore yellow coveralls: military uniforms resembling the native dress of Aventurine called Earth Attire.

Except for the young man, the other three were clearly Brights based on their expressions and the long swords at their waists. “Bright” was a rank given to those in the military possessing Sunstones. Despite slight variations between countries, most Brights were qualified to serve as officers. Blessed with the innate abilities of Sunstones, Brights were the backbone of their countries, the chosen members of society.

The young man in the center stepped forward.

That’s the prince, huh?

He had light brown hair, the back of his head cropped while one side of his bangs hung in a braid. Though his flat face didn’t leave much of an impression, his expression – smooth as fine sand – emanated refinement. Furthermore, he stood before three Brights with a composed bearing. The Squire who’d reported to Hinokaji had made a good assessment.

“My name is Shue Aventurine,” said the prince, bowing his head low. “I apologize for causing a disturbance in this manner.”

“Oh…” mumbled Hinokaji. “That’s okay.”

He gulped, as did the Squires watching from behind him.

Despite being from a vassal state, a Sunstone – of royal lineage, no less – would never lower his head to commoners. Apparently, Hinokaji wasn’t the only one who thought as much. At once, one of the Brights accompanying the prince raised his voice.

“Your Highness! Such behavior is un—”

Raising his head, the prince held up his palm, reining in the Bright. “I apologize for showing up unannounced,” he said. “Forgive me, but are you the once in charge here?”

In response to the prince’s question, Hinokaji answered falteringly. “I am Hinokaji, a Squire Sergeant belonging to the border security garrison of Winter Fortress. I’m supervising this scene, but Baron Corrin Tar is the highest-ranking person currently stationed here.”

“Then I would like you to give this to the baron.”

Respectfully, Hinokaji took the golden tube handed to him by the prince.

“Is this a letter?” he asked.

“It is a direct proposal from Her Majesty the Queen.”

“From the queen of Aventurine…? I’m sorry, but the baron isn’t—”

The baron isn’t here right now, Hinokaji started to say, but a nearby Squire walked over to him, whispering in his ear.

“He’s here?” asked Hinokaji. “When did that happen?”

“Late last night,” the Squire whispered. “He’s holed up in his room with a… guest other than his wife.”

Straightening, Hinokaji faced the prince once more. “We require a short amount of time,” he said. “Is Your Highness’s group returning home soon?”

“Her Majesty instructed me to hear your answer as soon as possible. If it’s not an inconvenience, I’ll wait here until then.”

After giving his consent to the prince, Hinokaji fired off orders to his subordinates. “Six of you, stay here. The rest of you, follow me.”

Despite being reluctant to leave someone of royalty outside, everything past the gate was Murakumo territory. Hinokaji couldn’t make the arbitrary decision to let the prince through.

He hurried to the office on the third floor with greater urgency than when he’d come to the courtyard. Due to Squires coming and going during all hours of the day, the first and second floors were always busy, but the third floor had a somewhat different atmosphere. It contained a rarely used conference room, a locked room for storing expensive goods and weapons, and – in the back – a rather spacious office for high-ranking military officials.

Leaving the others on the second floor, Hinokaji headed towards the office by himself. Two of Corrin Tar’s personal guards stood in front of the room, armed and wearing grim expressions.

“Is the baron present?” asked Hinokaji.

In response to his question, both men placed a hand on their swords, urging him to stay back. “Stop where you are,” one of them said. “His Excellency is very busy with work. If you have any business with him, we’ll listen to you here.”

Busy? That’s a fine way of putting it, Hinokaji cursed inwardly.

“Prince Shue is currently visiting as a messenger from Aventurine,” he explained. “He’s given me a letter from the queen. I’d like to report the particulars to the baron as soon as possible.”

Flustered, the two men exchanged glances.

“W-wait here!”

One man swiftly knocked on the door, entering. A little while later, he exited the room, urging Hinokaji to go inside.

As soon as he entered the office, an odd stench prickled Hinokaji’s nostrils. The strong scent of alcohol, cigars, and a couple engaged in coitus mixed together to create a peculiar odor he’d never smelled before. Fighting down nausea, Hinokaji resisted an urge to throw open all the windows. Curtains covered most of them, making the atmosphere even heavier than the already cloudy, dimly lit outdoors. Hinokaji felt restless, as though he were trapped inside a box without ventilation.

A small candelabrum illuminated Corrin Tar lying in bed and drinking wine, one arm wrapped around the shoulders of a naked woman. The hair of his crown had thinned, and he was so corpulent, his belly folded into three tiers. Without the Sunstone on the back of his left hand, which was the color of muddy water, he would have looked like the local tavern’s middle-aged drunkard.

Despite appearances, Corrin Tar was an official Bright of Murakumo’s military. Of course, the moment he’d been assigned to Winter Fortress, he’d deviated far from the path of advancement.

The baron was a slothful Bright who indulged in the sensual pleasures of wine and women. He was unpleasant to look upon, his form completely unworthy of respect. However, Hinokaji paid little heed to him, as the director of Winter Fortress changed every few years. In fact, he considered the baron relatively harmless. He didn’t meddle in the base’s affairs, and for the most part, he periodically left his villa – unbeknownst to his wife – to meet with his mistress in the third-floor office.

As Hinokaji stood before the bed and saluted, Corrin Tar languidly opened his mouth, his lips squirming. “The Prince of Aventurine came for a visit, I hear.”

“Yes. He’s currently waiting outside the gate with three Brights. He seeks an answer to this letter from Aventurine’s queen.”

Hinokaji removed the golden tube from his pocket, showing it to the baron.

“Sandstone, eh?” asked Corrin. “What could she want? This is clearly addressed to us, not the capital.”

Sandstone was the name of the Radiantore belonging to Aventurine’s royal family. Though Sunstones had special abilities, Radiantores were recognized as far more extraordinary, their powers cataclysmic. In many countries, families possessing Radiantores took the throne, reigning as monarchs or eminent nobles. Since Radiantores also gave their owners agelessness and longevity, people called the stones by special names, deifying them.

“I’ve never heard of anything like this,” said Hinokaji.

Corrin Tar placed a hand on his double chin, bloodshot eyes glancing upward. “Alright, I’ll allow it. Check the letter, and let me know what it says.”

“Me, Your Excellency?”

“I can’t see in the dark. From where you’re standing, you should have some light from outside.”

Hinokaji didn’t know if he – a mere commoner – should be the first one to open a letter from nobility, but arguing with a half-drunk man was futile. With a careful hand, Hinokaji opened the tube and unfolded the rolled up parchment, checking its contents.

“What’s wrong?” asked the baron. “What does it say?”

“Well, it’s…” Speechless, Hinokaji needed time to comprehend the contents of the letter. “It seems to be an invitation from the queen. She wants to convey her gratitude to our soldiers for their difficult work of guarding the border day in and day out. Furthermore, she wants to invite several Squires from Winter Fortress as representatives and hold an evening party at her castle. That’s the long and short of it…”

As he spoke, Hinokaji’s voice lost strength. Royalty wanting to show appreciation to mere Squires was absurd. Doubly so for a foreign monarch.

“Are you pulling my leg?” asked the baron. “Is that really what it says?” Still barefoot, Corrin Tar stepped down from the bed, taking the letter from Hinokaji and looking over it. “Hmm… You’re right. I’ve heard rumors of her frivolity, but to think she’d go this far.”

“Do you think we should contact the royal capital’s HQ and ask how to respond?”

Corrin Tar rebuffed Hinokaji’s honest proposal.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said the baron, rattling off his complaints. “If we bother the top brass with each insignificant thing that pops up, my reputation will suffer. Our budget is already being slashed. What good will come from drawing more attention to how useless this fortress is?”

“But if we respond to this letter, our soldiers will be crossing the border without permission.”

“The relationship between Murakumo and Aventurine is common knowledge. We don’t need permission each time one of our soldiers enters a vassal state. And anyway, this is an invitation from the queen. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Do you intend to accept this offer, Your Excellency?”

“It’s an invitation in recognition of our services. We have no reason to refuse. The queen merely wants to entertain Murakumo soldiers with a lavish feast, showing her vassals how broad-minded she is. You might hear one or two complaints from her, but that’s a small price to pay for the hospitality of royalty.”

“Are you… telling me to go?”

Corrin Tar’s ugly voice drowned out any hope of this being a joke. “Apart from you, everyone at this fortress is still green behind the ears! I don’t expect much, but treat the queen with the least amount of disrespect possible. Choose whoever you want to accompany you. From here on out, I have very important work to do. I leave the rest to you.”

Corrin Tar jerked his chin, telling Hinokaji to leave. This ridiculous proposal shouldn’t have been accepted solely on the basis of an on-site judgement. Nevertheless, Hinokaji was a soldier. He had no choice but to follow the orders of his commanding officers.

Expressing one’s opinions to arrogant nobles was an exercise in futility. Hinokaji’s lived experience in the military had taught him that much. More importantly, he had family and subordinates to protect. He couldn’t be reckless and draw unnecessary attention to himself.

***

Going downstairs, Hinokaji found Yaina and Miyahi looking at him with concern. Likewise, the Squires waited for him will curiosity filled expressions. Little by little, Hinokaji explained the situation.

Miyahi bit first, showing teeth. “So, some sunny has invited us to a banquet? I don’t buy it.”

Commoners used the term “sunny” in secret to refer to nobles. Often, those who used this slur didn’t think highly of the aristocracy.

Until now, the Squires had listened with expressions of childlike innocence, but upon hearing that Hinokaji needed traveling companions, they averted their gazes from him, looking downward. Though most of them were the children of farmers, they weren’t necessarily spiritless cowards. Still, in matters concerning nobles, they shied away.

If the invitation had come from a great merchant, the Squires would have been clamoring to accompany him. However, their host being a noblewoman – no, a queen – changed the situation. Honestly, even Hinokaji wanted someone of suitably high rank from the capital to send a polite letter of refusal on his behalf.

Regardless of what Hinokaji wanted, he had to say this. “Would anyone else like to accompany me to Aventurine? You’ll probably get some good food out of it.”

Unsure if even that were true, Hinokaji lacked confidence in his words. If things went poorly, the nobles and royalty might ridicule the Squires, making them objects of public humiliation. No one would take the initiative to raise their hand. Except for a young man who hadn’t been a member here until very recently.

“Yes! I’ll go!”

All eyes turned upon the one who’d made the spirited declaration, raising his hand high in the air.

“Lad…” said Hinokaji.

The voice belonged to Shuou. Until the prince’s party had arrived with their letter, this young man had been the main source of Hinokaji’s worries. He had strong glint in his eyes. For the first time, Hinokaji could see youthfulness in him befitting his age.

“I’ll go, too,” said Miyahi.

This time, all eyes turned upon her.

“Y-You’re staying here,” said Hinokaji. “I can’t take you to a place where anything could—”

“I’m more worried about you going there alone, Gramps. It’ll be fine. I don’t know what they want, but Aventurine must know what will happen if they harm Murakumo soldiers. And maybe that eccentric queen does want to treat us to a fabulous banquet.”

Miyahi was right. Even if they were royalty, an Aventurine citizen harming a Murakumo soldier could – in the worst case scenario – lead to war. Of course, Aventurine would gain nothing from such actions. Since the country had no independent military or force of arms, they would never openly harm Hinokaji or his companions.

Hinokaji looked across the Squires, all of them idly hanging their heads. Everyone was afraid of being called out. Taking along a fearful person and offering them up as a helpless laughingstock wouldn’t be wise. Far from being unhelpful, soldiers with low morale could sometimes jeopardize a mission.

Once again, Hinokaji returned his gaze to Miyahi. Her strong-willed eyes resembled Yaina’s. Just like her grandmother, she was stubborn, unwilling to listen.

Hinokaji felt incredibly reluctant to take his granddaughter – whom he’d raised with great care – to a land in which he couldn’t guess what might happen. Yet if he left Miyahi here and appointed another Squire as his companion, that could very well be perceived as nepotism. It wouldn’t be the least bit strange if the trust he’d taken so much time to build collapsed on the spot.

Can I make this work?

Miyahi looked him directly in the eye. Making up his mind, Hinokaji asked her a question. “It’ll be more than fun and games. Do you still want to go?”

He glared at his granddaughter, making his voice and expression threatening.

“I’m going,” she said. “And anyway, this will be a good opportunity. Despite being so close, I’ve never stepped foot in Aventurine.”

Except for merchants, people rarely had the opportunity to travel to foreign countries. If Hinokaji thought of this affair in a positive light, it was a chance to give his granddaughter a valuable experience.

Hinokaji turned to Shuou. “Traveled much, Lad?”

“You could say that.”

Shuou also looked Hinokaji directly in the eye. He seemed full of anticipation, not a trace of hesitation or unease in him.

“Alright,” said Hinokaji. “I’m taking Miyahi and this young man with me. Once you’re finished getting ready, meet me in the courtyard. The rest of you, return to your usual duties. This isn’t a chance to slack off just because I’m gone. If I find anyone lazing about when I get back, expect a whooping one hundred times over!”

As Hinokaji gave orders in a slightly joking tone, the guilty looking Squires perked up, returning to their respective posts. Jobs around the base were all so simple, Hinokaji being absent for a few days wouldn’t pose a problem. In order to get ready, Miyahi and Shuou swiftly departed as well.

“Dear…”

Yaina was the last person remaining. She started to say something, but the words never left her mouth.

“Don’t worry,” said Hinokaji. “I’ll bring Miyahi back safely.”

“The new one, too. He’s still so young. I’d feel horrible if anything happened to him.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Take care of yourself as well. If you die on me, I’ll never forgive you.”

Yaina had always been prone to embarrassment, speaking ambiguously whenever she was worried about Hinokaji. No matter how much time passed, she’d never grown out of that habit.

“I’ll bring the young ones home, no matter what,” said Hinokaji. “Even if I have to crawl on the ground, I’ll come back alive.”

He turned to hide his embarrassment, spitting out the words. In the end, he was more like his wife than he liked to admit.

***

After he’d finished preparing for the journey, Shuou headed to the courtyard with a spring in his step. For the first time since arriving at Winter Fortress, he felt excited. When Hinokaji had suddenly and unexpectedly requested travel companions to Aventurine, Shuou had forced his way to a candidacy. Visiting countries he’d never seen before had motivated Shuou to flee from Amane’s side in the first place.

Though it was approaching noon, the area was gloomy, the clouds growing denser. The winter air was cold, but compared to the mountains – where the capital was located – and other high places, the weather here was much better. Due to the gentle air from the south, it rarely ever snowed in these parts.

Bouncing on his feet, Shuou arrived in the courtyard, finding Hinokaji and Miyahi already waiting for him. Yaina and the other Squires had also come to see them off.

“Are you ready, Lad?” asked Hinokaji.

“Yes,” said Shuou. “We can leave at any time.”

Nodding, Hinokaji faced the prince standing before the eastern gate, saluting him. “If you are willing, the three of us will accompany you.”

The prince gave satisfied nod. However, a hard-faced, well-built soldier standing behind him stepped forward, voicing his complaints.

“That’s everyone? At the very least, we need two more. I wouldn’t mind double those numbers. In any case, three is too few.”

Prince Shue interjected, soothing the Bright’s authoritative cries. “That’s enough. We’re asking too much for one of Her Majesty’s capricious ideas. Let’s be glad that they even accepted.”

Something seemed off about the prince, who stood before Shuou wearing an ingratiating smile. Despite being a member of royalty, he lacked gravitas. Put nicely, he seemed good-natured. Put honestly, he seemed apathetic.

This was the second time Shuou had seen royalty. On the first occasion, he’d glimpsed the princess from afar inside the capital’s Crystal Palace. She’d also had a peculiar, idiosyncratic air about her.

“I’ve selected personnel whose absence won’t interfere with the base’s operations,” said Hinokaji. “If there’s a problem with our numbers, we can choose another day to depart.”

The hard-faced Bright clucked his tongue, wearing a bitter expression.

“I’m satisfied with your numbers,” said the prince. “During your stay in Aventurine, I will be acting as your guide. Relax and think of this as a sightseeing expedition. The town we plan to rest in partway through the journey even has a hot spring.”

Shuou felt boundless excitement to see and explore the unknown world. Moreover, he had a member of royalty as his guide. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, possibly less. For the first time since arriving here, time had finally started moving again. Yet in contrast to Shuou’s racing heart, Hinokaji emanated a dark aura. His profile was grim, as if he harbored some kind of anxiety.

***

They traveled on galloping horses, the scenery pulled backwards. This Alabaster Road was less than half the size of those in Murakumo. Worn with age, the path was conspicuously cracked and missing in places. There was little else to say. So long as one traveled through the very similar Abyss, the same scenery would continue passing them by.

Prince Shue and his three Brights rode on the four horses in the front. Three equine bodies behind them, the trio of Winter Fortress Squires rode on two horses, racing after them. Shuou couldn’t ride alone. When he’d explained this to Hinokaji and Miyahi, they’d seemed surprised and exasperated.

Since childhood, Shuou had been alone. When he’d become aware of his surroundings, Amane had swept him away, raising him in a unique environment worthy of being called a different world. Growing up amidst the Gray Forest, he had never found himself in need of a horse. As a result, he’d missed his opportunity to learn the equestrian arts. He wasn’t ashamed of this, but based on the reactions of those around him, not knowing how to ride a horse seemed strange to the average person.

In the end, the three of them had placed their luggage on Hinokaji’s horse while Shuou rode behind Miyahi. Atop the horse, Shuou wrapped his arms around Miyahi’s slender, muscular torso, feeling at a loss for anything to do.　

“Sorry about this,” he said.

“Hm?” asked Miyahi. “What’s wrong?

Shuou apologized to Miyahi, who’d been silently holding onto the reins since their departure this morning.

“I’m apologizing for needing to ride behind you…” said Shuou. “And for what happened this morning.”

Shuou wasn’t at fault for Miyahi forcibly challenging him to a duel this morning. He didn’t think so, at least. Still, she’d acted prickly since then, and he’d ended up riding behind her. Thus, he worried about her mood being sour.

Shuou prepared himself for a sarcastic response, but contrary to expectations, Miyahi’s answer was surprisingly calm.

“I’m not worried about that anymore,” she said. “In fact, I’m even grateful right now.”

“Grateful…?”

“When Gramps was recruiting traveling companions to Aventurine, you were the first one to raise your hand. No one else looked like they wanted to go, and if they’d stayed silent, Gramps would have been forced to choose someone against their will. That would have been really awkward. But since you immediately offered to go, I found the strength to do the same… I can’t explain it well, but I’m grateful, and I’ve revised my opinion of you. You’ve got backbone.”

To be precise, he had curiosity, not backbone. He’d gone on this journey with impure motives: to dispel his boredom. Regardless, there was no need to say that aloud. Miyahi was one of the few people at Winter Fortress he had any sort of relationship with. Since they would be spending the next few days together on this journey, he would relax better knowing she was in a good mood.

“Still, I wonder how sincere the prince is being,” said Miyahi, nodding towards his back.

“He seems nice enough.”

The expression Shuou chose to describe him with was much softer than his initial impression.

Miyahi titled her head, seeming unconvinced about something. “I suppose so. I’ve met less than a dozen nobles in my life, and they’ve all been cold and arrogant. Seeing the prince’s modest demeanor for the first time, I thought he must be mocking us, but from the looks of it, he acts the same way around his Brights. That must be his personality.”

“Aventurine is ruled by a queen, right?” asked Shuou. “Does that make the prince her son?”

“Hmm…” said Miyahi, struggling to find an answer. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”

Though Shuou hadn’t noticed him listening, Hinokaji – who was riding a little ways ahead – answered on her behalf. “He’s the queen’s younger brother. They have different mothers.”

“Her younger brother?” repeated Shuou.

“Something bothering you, Lad?” asked Hinokaji, his expression grim.

“No, I was just wondering if Prince Shue would be the next king of this country.”

Though it was none of his business, Shuou worried about whether or not the gentle-mannered prince could bear the burden of an entire country.

“I doubt it,” said Hinokaji. “When the previous king died, the price immediately renounced his right of inheritance, which Murakumo recognized, I’ve heard. Perhaps because of that, it’s rumored that the queen dotes on her younger brother, her only living relative.”

Without a moment’s delay, Miyahi spoke up eagerly. “If she sent her adorable little brother to meet with us directly, it must be true that she wants us to feel welcome. Oh, and he said something about a hot spring. I’m starting to feel a little excited.”

In contrast to his granddaughter’s innocently overactive imagination, Hinokaji’s voice was heavy. “I wonder about that. Best to keep our expectations low.”

“Is something wrong?” Shuou couldn’t help but ask.

“The prince said we’d stop in a city with a commercial district on the way to the capital. Well, once we’re there, we might see things more clearly.”

Just then, one of Brights riding in the front raised his hand and whistled.

“Seems like he wants us to hurry,” said Hinokaji. “We’ll have to keep up. Drive your horse as fast as you can. Hah!”

Leaving with those words, he accelerated in a single bound.

“I’m going to speed up, too,” said Miyahi. “Hang on for dear life.”

Before, Shuou had reluctantly held onto Miyahi’s stomach. Now he clung to her with all his might. Atop a horse, he couldn’t enjoy the feeling of her waist, thin enough for his arms to wrap around. Yet despite the rough tone of voice she used on a daily basis, Miyahi was certainly a woman, he came to realize.

Galloping through the wintry air, the wind was so cold that Shuou thought his ears might tear off. Even so, the atmosphere had warmed compared to his time at the fortress. Despite having traveled only a short distance, they had – without question – arrived in a foreign land.

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/10/