Four men had met in a room in the dimly lit castle.
Three of them had suntanned skin and well-built bodies, indicating that
they drilled for battle day in, day out. The other was middle-aged, his hair
just beginning to thin, and his attire was luxurious.
He looked to the little assembly. "The princess is in the way. We have to
do something to stop her coronation."
"But will things still work if something happens to her?" offered one of
the other men.
The elder man fell into thought. After a moment of indecision, he made
up his mind. "It doesn't matter. They're only crowning a figurehead
anyway. The times have changed."
His three constituents inhaled sharply at that. They were all determined
to make a difference.
The man continued heatedly. "From now on, stable domestic affairs and
foreign diplomacy are going to drive this country, as well as military
strength. If the royal family doesn't have the power to adapt, then we have
no choice but to take their place. You can think of this as a revolution."
Fierce determination oozed from him. The other three breathed in this
ambition, won over by the words.
"All right, which of these rings do you think is the magic one?" Tinasha
questioned, sitting in a patch of shade on the training grounds during a
break from her regular practice. A silver ring wrought in an antique style lay
atop each of her palms.
After gazing at them for a while, Oscar pointed. "That one."
"Why do you think that?"
"Intuition," he replied immediately.
Tinasha dismissed the rings and crossed her arms. Her shapely brows
knit. "You do have very good intuition, but I don't think that's what guides
your selection. Did you actually sense the magic coming from one of
them?"
"If I had, I wasn't consciously aware of it. All I felt was that something
was different," he said.
"Hmm… I'd like you to be a little more attuned than that," admitted
Tinasha, turning her right palm up and casting a spell there instantaneously.
She infused it with magic and made the array visible. A three-dimensional
sigil formed of intertwined red threads floated in her hand. "You see it,
don't you?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. I'm going to make it fade, little by little," she said, starting to
adjust the magic. Very slowly, the red threads faded away until they
disappeared.
But to those who could see magic, the spell was still visible right where
it was.
Oscar stared at it. Once it was fully invisible, Tinasha asked, "Can you
see it?"
"I can see some warping. It's like that spot has water on it," he
answered.
"Hmm."
She recited a short incantation, this time camouflaging it. The spell
gradually faded away, cloaked to the point that an ordinary mage wouldn't
be able to see it. "What about now?"
"It feels weird."
"You really do have good intuition…," Tinasha commented, shaking her
head somewhat exasperatedly as she made the spell vanish. Hugging her
knees to her chest, she glanced up at the leaves of the big tree they were
under. "Through repeated practice, someone like you might be able to see
spells."
"Then how about you give me some of that practice?"
"Hmm… Okay, just a little bit," she agreed.
The two stood and moved a distance away from each other, like they
often did for sword practice.
Tinasha gave a light swing of her practice sword. "Don't move. I'll
create a spell that can be undone if you block its core with a normal sword.
But it won't come undone if you don't touch the core, even if you hit the
rest of the spell. Got it?"
"Got it," Oscar said.
Weapon in hand, Tinasha spread her hands wide. Ten palm-size balls of
light appeared before her chest. He narrowed his eyes at them.
"Go."
With her soft but pointed order, the balls of light took to the air at
varying speeds. They spread out, heading for Oscar. He awaited them,
sword at the ready, and slashed at the first sphere to reach him. His blade
pierced its center, and it winked out of sight. He then held his weapon
horizontally and sliced at a sphere coming toward him from the right. Like
the first, he punctured the core, but it pushed forward regardless and struck
his shoulder. It tapped against him, then bounced off.
"Focus on seeing them. Broaden your senses," Tinasha instructed.
"Okay," Oscar replied as the sphere flew at him. Controlling his
breathing, he raised his sword.
He concentrated, keeping his nerves taut.
With his eyes fixed on the light sphere, he saw a rippling on the inside of
it.
He cut the third one a little to the upper left. It dissipated.
The fourth one slipped past his sword and hit his chest.
I need to hone my concentration better.
Oscar kept his senses sharp and his field of vision broad as he watched
his target. The rippling inside the sphere grew a little clearer and more
visible. He could tell that two white circles were joined together there.
Holding his breath, Oscar slashed at that meeting point.
Tinasha whipped up more magic spheres, restraining an admiring sigh.
There were still globes Oscar failed to strike in the right place, but he
was gradually getting more right than wrong. Eventually, Tinasha began
mixing in invisible spheres, yet Oscar succeeded against a fair number of
those, too.
Unlike Tinasha's prowess with a sword, Oscar's magical vision was
something inborn in him. It didn't take the man long to adjust. Moreover, he
possessed a naturally accurate intuition. His reactions were possibly even
swifter than a typical mage's. Tinasha stopped creating new spells and lifted
up her hands.
"Let's stop here for now. If you jump into too much at once, there could
be some backlash, and that wouldn't help at all," she called.
"Sure. Thank you, I feel like I more or less figured it out. Did you
undergo drills like these, too?" asked Oscar.
"I've been able to see magic for as long as I can remember. It's actually
harder to suppress my sensitivity when I don't need to use it."
Even then, Tinasha couldn't dismiss her magical vision completely. It
wasn't impossible, but because she never knew what might be there, she
always stayed aware to some degree. The world appeared considerably
different through her eyes than it did to people without magic. If one
pondered that, though, they would realize that everyone saw the world only
from their perspective. There were differences in every view.
Oscar glanced up at the clock set into the castle wall. "I've taken up a lot
of your time. Sorry about that."
"Not at all. I'm the one who asked you for lessons. Let's try some magic
training for a while, too," Tinasha suggested.
"Yeah, that would really help."
Tinasha trotted over and happily nestled close as they set off. Oscar
patted her head roughly, thinking her rather like a cat curling around his
legs.
For a time, things passed peacefully like this in Farsas Castle.
One day, Doan and Sylvia were in the lounge surrounded by a number of
open books on magic when Tinasha entered, and they looked up.
She was carrying a dozen thin volumes, and an unfamiliar male mage
followed after her. He had a pile of books in his arms, too, though his were
all thick. He set these tomes down on the desk, and Tinasha smiled. "Thank
you, Renart."
"I'm happy to assist anytime," Renart replied with a bow. Then he lifted
a hand in greeting to Doan. "It's been a while."
"You look well," remarked Doan.
Evidently these two knew each other; Tinasha's and Sylvia's eyes
widened in surprise. Noticing their curious gazes on him, Doan explained
that he had met Renart while studying in Tuldarr. Renart introduced himself
to Sylvia.
Once everyone was acquainted, Tinasha began to explain what she had
brought.
"…So these books are interpretative texts. I came with this pair because
it seemed like they might have some related information."
The Farsasian mages listened intently, while Renart frowned at the last
two volumes. "Princess Tinasha, aren't those reference texts not meant to be
taken out of the library?"
"I left the outer covers behind, so no one will know. We'll make copies,
return them, and all will be well," she replied.
"That should be fine, then," Renart said.
Sylvia eyed the calm, good-natured duo with concern. Then her eyes
landed on the thin books Tinasha was holding. "Princess Tinasha, what are
those?"
"Oh, these are my old diaries," she answered, setting them down on the
table. Each of the ten-odd books had a year inscribed on it. "Oscar asked
me to look up a word I recalled hearing somewhere before, but these were
the only writings of mine that I could find. I can't show these to anyone,
and there's a lot to go through, so it won't be easy, but…"
"What? These are your diaries?" a man piped up from behind as he
reached out and picked up one of the things.
Tinasha let out a screech and whirled around. "Oscar! Give that back!"
She grabbed for it, but the king held it out of her reach and opened up
the journal. He'd happened to be passing by and heard her voice, so he
popped in to see if she wanted to do some practicing.
Despite Tinasha's efforts, she couldn't overcome her height disparity
with the far taller Oscar. The man scanned the contents and found a neatly
written account of war progress, domestic affairs, and the magic spells
Tinasha had been researching at the time. The script used in Tuldarr had a
few quirks to it, but most of it was mutually comprehensible and readable.
He flipped ahead and discovered that this diary seemed to detail the war
with Tayiri. It was a matter-of-fact report containing nothing about
Tinasha's feelings on the matter. Finding that uninteresting, Oscar closed it.
At the same time, Tinasha floated up into the air and snatched it. "I told you
to give that back!"
"Write something more interesting," Oscar commanded.
"I was busy!" she cried, landing back on the floor and flipping through
the diary she had retrieved. Fortunately, there was nothing recorded in it
that was too private for other eyes, yet she still felt unsettled.
Oscar eyed the other journals on the desk. "When did you start keeping
a diary?"
"Since I was five, I think? It doubled as penmanship practice."
"I want to see those diaries," Oscar stated.
"Absolutely not!" Tinasha rebuked, as angry as a cat with its fur
standing on end.
Laughing, Oscar patted her head. "Do you keep one now?"
"If I did, it would just be full of insults for you, wouldn't it? Because
you're so mean to me all the time."
"Aren't you a bold one…"
"Ow! Ow!" Tinasha yelped, struggling as Oscar pinched her cheeks.
The king of Farsas looked to be enjoying himself deeply, and Renart
muttered to Doan, "Is Farsas always like this?"
"Well… Mostly, yes," Doan answered.
Renart was quite taken aback at the sight of Tinasha acting her age,
something she never did in Tuldarr, and he kept his irreverent appraisal of
the situation to himself.
Three days later, a letter arrived from Yarda, a country that bordered Farsas
on the east.
Oscar read it in the course of his duties and furrowed his brow. "We've
gotten an annoying request from Yarda. Internal strife has broken out, and
they want the princess to stay here."
"Princess Nephelli?" asked Lazar.
Farsas had warred with Yarda ten years ago, but after Yarda asked for
help rebuilding, Farsas had rendered aid. It was clear they wanted to keep
up a good relationship with Farsas; Princess Nephelli, in particular, visited
often.
However, she had never stayed long. Oscar had to wonder how dire
things had gotten if this had become necessary.
He rested his chin in his hands. "Well, it would be strange to refuse."
"It certainly would. Your Majesty and Princess Nephelli are on friendly
terms, after all," Lazar replied.
Oscar nodded absently, then asked, "But would it be okay with Tinasha
here? I can never predict what she'll do. I don't want her getting into any
scuffles with Yarda."
"…I believe that's all dependent on you, Your Majesty," Lazar stated
wryly.
After Tinasha and Delilah's altercation, the windows in the lounge had
cracked. Tinasha had paid for replacements, but this time, her opponent
would be a royal. The situation could devolve beyond repair. However,
Lazar and all the other attendants and advisers believed that it was Oscar's
fault whenever Tinasha destroyed something.
Whether the young king was aware of his retinue's concerns or not, he
chuckled. "Just in case, I'll warn Tinasha before she meets Nephelli,
whenever that is. Lately she's been holed up doing analysis, so it might not
matter, but it's not like they'd never run into each other."
"There's also the matter of how exactly you break the news to her, Your
Majesty. Please take great care…," pleaded Lazar.
"I'll tell her while we're practicing. If we're outside, it shouldn't result
in any broken panes."
"That's not what I meant! I feel sorry for Princess Tinasha!" Lazar cried.
Then his face clouded over. "She doesn't have much time left in Farsas."
It was so charming to see her clinging to the king like a kitten, but that
wouldn't be the case for much longer. Tinasha's coronation was fast
approaching, and it was clear upon close observation that she and Oscar
were staying mindful of their respective positions. Although that was
precisely what troubled Lazar.
Oscar gave his friend a strained smile. "I was joking. She'll handle it
well, too. That's the type of people we are," he said with a grin, accepting
his duty matter-of-factly.
Once Lazar left the study, he let out another sigh.
The sky was a beautiful, clear blue as far as the eye could see—perfect
weather for a wedding.
In the morning, Sylvia dropped by Tinasha's room to return some books
on magic, all happy smiles. "Today one of my fellow mages is getting
married. The ceremony will take place in town, and in the evening, there
will be a little reception in the castle courtyard."
"Oh, a wedding. How nice."
"Would you like to attend? Everyone would be thrilled."
"Me?" Tinasha asked, eyeing her scrying bowl with the books still in her
hands. The spell configuration floating above the basin was as finely
wrought and lovely as ever. She was a bit behind schedule but still making
progress. A change of pace couldn't hurt. "I suppose I'll take you up on
your kind offer. Is the mage a man or a woman?"
"A man. His name is Temys," answered Sylvia.
"I see."
After Sylvia departed in high spirits, Tinasha teleported herself to
Tuldarr to prepare. She quickly returned to Farsas and worked on her
analysis for a little longer. Before she knew it, the time for the reception had
come.
While things began at dusk, it was still quite light outside. Tables and
chairs were set out in the courtyard, the tables laden with celebratory food
and drinks. Oscar had provided all of it for the groom, who was a court
mage. Many soldiers and mages were among the guests, and once the happy
couple appeared, the modest reception got underway. It started with Chief
Mage Kumu greeting the guests.
Tinasha made her appearance just as everyone was beginning to unwind
and chat. Clad in the formal mage's robe of Tuldarr, she offered her
congratulations to the couple. Then she whispered to the bride, "Are you by
any chance a spirit sorcerer?"
"A former one, yes. It's an honor to meet you, princess of Tuldarr," the
woman replied.
Her happy smile was infectious, and Tinasha grinned back. She opened
the box she was carrying. Inside lay a necklace made of a generous string of
pearls. "This is actually a magic implement. One I think is perfect for you.
Congratulations."
"Th…thank you so much!" the bride exclaimed, receiving the box from
Tinasha's hands. The groom next to her bowed gratefully.
Well wishes complete, Tinasha made to retreat from them when
someone got ahold of her from behind. Surprised, she turned her head back
and saw a drunken Sylvia clinging to her.
"Princess Tinasha, do something!" pleaded the intoxicated mage.
"Do what?"
"Hey, Sylvia, whoa."
Other people rushed to stop Sylvia from acting improperly, but Tinasha
waved them off with a smile. With her friend still plastered to her back,
Tinasha puzzled over what to do.
"Hmm, yes. In that case…"
She handed Sylvia off to Kav, then obtained permission from the bridal
couple before going to stand before the assembled guests.
Oscar, who was working away with his back to the open window, paused
when he heard the faint strains of a song floating in from outside.
He knew this voice well, but he had never heard her sing before.
Accompanied only by a lyre, the melody she sang was not one from Farsas.
Her clear and resonant voice was beautiful enough to enthrall all who heard
it.
Lazar looked up, recognizing the voice, too. "Oh, is that Princess
Tinasha?"
"Seems so. I guess she's making an appearance at the wedding
reception? She's so talented," Oscar remarked, grinning wryly as he
listened to her pleasant, reverberant singing.
His work was almost done. Perhaps he would drop by the reception as
well. Deciding to do just that, he sped up his work pace.
By the time Oscar made it to the celebration, the party was in full swing.
After stopping the bride and groom from bowing to him numerous
times, Oscar congratulated them. Accepting a drink, he left the pair and
searched the courtyard. In one corner, facing away from him, was the
woman who had been singing earlier.
She was laughing out loud in amusement as she chatted with Sylvia. But
as Oscar got closer, he noticed something was off.
From behind, he got ahold of her wrist. She whirled around, grinning.
"Oh? Oscar?"
"You know this is alcoholic, right?" he asked.
"What?" she said, sounding surprised. In the hand Oscar had caught, she
was holding a glass of fine wine. He released his grip, and Tinasha brought
the glass to her mouth, her head tilted thoughtfully. "But it's sweet."
"It's sweet and alcoholic," Oscar stated.
"Huh…"
It was clear that Tinasha was already drunk. Oscar sat down on her right
and kept an eye on her.
Giggling all the while, Tinasha wondered what could be wrong as she
drained her glass. She tried to refill it from the carafe on the table, but Oscar
stopped her. "Don't drink any more. Your magic will run amok."
"Yes, it will. That would be bad."
"Listen…," Oscar muttered, holding the carafe itself out of reach. He
poured her a glass of water instead. "Drink this."
"But it's not sweet…," Tinasha complained.
"Put sugar in it," he shot back indifferently, and she pouted.
As Tinasha started to drink her water, Oscar reminded her, "Put on your
sealing ornaments. You're at a party."
She nodded obediently, set her glass down, and tried to summon the
ornaments into her hand. But what appeared instead was a porcelain vase.
Oscar let out a dry huff. "How is that a sealing ornament?"
"Hold on…," Tinasha said, setting the vase down on the table and trying
again. The next thing to appear was a little cat figurine made of stone. Her
eyes grew wide. "It's a cat!"
"Well, that's obvious!" interjected Sylvia from the opposite side,
collapsing into laughter over the table. It looked like she was as inebriated
as Tinasha. Doan and Kav stood a fair distance away, watching the two
women with fearful eyes but making no moves to get any closer, having
apparently decided on a plan of noninvolvement.
Tinasha peered at her hands and moaned, "This is so strange… There's
no sealing ornament."
"Do more, Princess Tinasha!" called Sylvia.
"Okay," Tinasha sang, and then a metal helmet and a portion of a suit of
armor from who knew where materialized in her hands. Oscar was at his
wits' end. He noticed that her magic must have been affecting the nearby
glasses and water pitcher, because they were beginning to float. Tinasha
was giving the helmet in her arms a curious look when Oscar plucked it
from her and barked, "Don't use any more magic!"
"Am I doing that…?" she questioned.
"Yes, it's you," the young king assured her, placing a sheathed Akashia
across her lap. Right away, the levitating glasses landed back on the table.
Oscar took Tinasha's empty glass and filled it with more water.
That was when Lazar came running up from the covered walkway.
"Your Majesty, we've received an answer from Yarda. The princess will be
arriving the day after tomorrow."
"That was fast," Oscar replied. For the reply to come so quickly after he
sent a response surely meant that Yarda was in dire straits. In any case,
welcoming a visiting royal necessitated a fair amount of preparation. Oscar
gave Lazar several instructions, remaining calm even as he felt a certain
person's eyes on him.
Once Lazar rushed off, Tinasha asked plaintively, "Oscar, are you
getting married?"
Everyone around them froze. Doan casually stood. Aware of his inner
circle's concern, Oscar took a sip from his glass. "Who can say? Why
would that be the case?"
"Mrr…," Tinasha grumbled, pouting and sounding like a small child.
Drunk as she was, she could tell from the way Oscar had spoken to Lazar
that Nephelli was coming for a long stay.
Oscar pinched her cheek. "What's with that face? If you're unhappy
about something, just tell me."
It was all up to Tinasha whether Oscar could get married in the first
place. If she didn't want him marrying someone else, she need only declare
herself incapable of breaking the curse. Then she would become the only
woman who could bear his child.
As Oscar envisioned that future, Tinasha jerked her head to the side,
sulking. "I don't care. I came to be of use to you. I'm not unhappy about
anything, so you should choose whoever you like."
Despite her claim, Tinasha tried to grab another carafe of wine, but
Oscar intercepted. "Fine. I think I'll take a queen who won't destroy a suit
of armor."
"Wha—?"
Everyone in the vicinity tensed up when they heard the king's retort.
Oscar watched Tinasha out of the corner of his eye, making sure she didn't
drop the sword resting on her lap.
Tinasha glared at him, her eyes glittering like fire. To him, they appeared
as two gems. He was about to lose himself entirely in their light when
Tinasha flung Akashia away. He reached out an arm to stop it from
happening, which she promptly clutched. "Ugh! I hate you!"
"Got it, got it. I despise mages who are annoying drunks, too. You
should go sleep it off."
"I'm not gonna! Stupid!" Tinasha cried, kicking up a fuss even as she
clung to Oscar's arm. However, her eyes kept fluttering shut, suggesting she
was almost totally exhausted. Finally, she collapsed onto Oscar's lap.
Oscar sipped at his drink, letting Tinasha rest peacefully, but when the
magic lights in the courtyard twinkled to life, he took that as his cue to lift
her up and carry her.
As he took his leave, he said, "I'll take her to her room. Sorry she
caused a commotion." His advisers and attendants watched them go with
uneasy smiles.
Tinasha's room had a magical barrier instead of a lock, but Oscar could pass
through it, as he was the lord of the castle. He carried Tinasha into the
room, put her down on the bed, and pulled the covers over her petite frame.
Scanning the room, his eyes landed on her diaries lying on the desk.
"She's surprisingly meticulous…"
The lines from one journal he'd glimpsed earlier were so coolheaded it
was difficult to imagine the Tinasha he knew could write them. They very
much indicated a queen who stood at the pinnacle of her country at a young
age. The writings had also revealed Tinasha's life to be quite lonely—and
that she was constantly dealing with conflicts both domestic and
international.
Undoubtedly, the Traditionalists in Tuldarr had never given her a
moment's peace, constantly seeking to oust her. Oscar couldn't suppress a
sigh at the thought of all that pressure weighing on so tiny a body.
"And yet she's going to become queen again…even though she was
finally allowed to abdicate," Oscar mused, starting to frown, but then he
banished that thought. The circumstances were very different now. Her
coronation was expressly requested. And she would be a ruler who
commanded the mystical spirits, who had not appeared in a long time. Legis
would be there to support her as well. Hopefully, Tinasha wouldn't be so
lonely this time.
Oscar eyed the piles of journals, counting them up in his mind. In total,
there were fifteen.
"She said it was just before she became queen, so…around when she
was thirteen?"
The ninth diary from the oldest had YEAR 235 on the cover; Oscar fell
silent before it.
He did want to know the truth.
Had he truly been the one to save her when she was young? It hadn't
been someone else?
If it was him, then why had he done it?
Perhaps the answer was in those pages.
Thoughts whirled in Oscar's mind as he touched the cover, but in the
end, he didn't open it.
Looking at it without Tinasha's permission was wrong. And…even if
that had been him, it wasn't his current self. Snooping didn't seem like it
would reveal anything Oscar needed to know. Should there be anything like
that, he trusted Tinasha to tell him.
Oscar returned to the bed and sat down on it. He gazed at Tinasha as she
slept soundly. "You're glad you came to meet me, huh?"
Without a doubt, those words had been meant for him, not the previous
Oscar. Still, he had to wonder if he could truly give a woman who had
crossed four hundred years into the future what she deserved.
Everything she did struck him like waves. Her childish laughter, her
deep affection pouring from her even as she raged at him… It was
frightening.
Not because it was overwhelming or that Tinasha was too clingy. Oscar
was scared because he couldn't allow himself to be a prisoner to love.
Turning back, he eyed the scrying bowl set in the center of the room.
There lay the spell configuration she was in the middle of analyzing.
"…If not for this curse…"
If she couldn't break the curse, he could have Tinasha. That was all he
needed to justify keeping her.
Oscar did not doubt his ability to talk both Tinasha and Tuldarr into just
about anything.
She was a woman out of time, who never should have existed here.
Tuldarr would get on without her. What was so wrong with accepting for
himself this woman who had come here for him?
After glaring at the spell above the scrying bowl for some time, Oscar
glanced over at Tinasha, then back to the spell she was working so hard to
decipher. He let out a heavy sigh.
"Maybe this is fate…," he muttered, a bitter note in his voice, as he slid
a hand through her hair, catching one glossy lock and carding his fingers
through it slowly and lovingly. He shook his head to dispel the emotions
rising inside him and then left the room.
The next day, Tinasha made her way to the training grounds right on time,
but she was conspicuously holding a hand to her pounding temple.
Oscar watched her, his eyes narrowed. "Do you have anything to say?"
"My memories are a blur, but first I want to apologize for breaking the
suit of armor," she replied.
"…Don't drink any more of Farsas's liquor. You're banned from it."
"Okay…," she agreed lethargically, starting some light stretches and
warm-up exercises. As Tinasha bent her knees, she made a face. "The last
time I drank, I put a hole in a wall, so I've abstained ever since."
Unbelievable. Compared to that, they got off lucky. Oscar took comfort
in that, then picked up his practice sword once he saw Tinasha was ready.
"So do you remember the important message I got? If you've forgotten, I'll
tell you again."
"I know that Princess Nephelli of Yarda is coming to stay. You don't
need to worry. I'll be on my best behavior so I don't bring shame to Legis."
"What about my shame?"
"I don't care about that," she huffed, glancing away. Remembering what
happened yesterday, Oscar's eyes narrowed. But if he picked a fight here,
the same cycle would just repeat. While he was thinking about how to
respond, Tinasha faced him again. "That said, I'll be away starting this
afternoon. If anything happens, contact Tuldarr."
"Is that where you're going?"
"No, but I'll be stopping there, so that will be easiest," she replied.
Oscar wanted to pry further upon hearing that but was aware he couldn't
meddle in another country's business. He brought his sword up. "Got it.
When you're back, be sure to greet Nephelli."
"I will. I do have my work to do," she said, grinning, but Oscar detected
some loneliness in the expression. He felt as though he was glimpsing her
queenly demeanor in that smile, the part of her he shouldn't know about,
and he frowned.
"…She's just a guest of Farsas. You can relax. Like you did at the
reception yesterday," he stated wryly.
"Don't take advantage of the situation to slip in a snide remark. I'm well
aware that I drank too much."
"But your singing was great."
The truth was that Oscar had gone to the reception hoping to hear her up
close.
Tinasha cocked her head, bemused. "Really? I'll sing for you anytime.
Just ask," she replied with a happy smile.
A handful of men had been loitering in a small tavern in a town not far from
the castle city since the afternoon.
An air of degeneracy hung around this drunk, pipe-smoking bunch, but
that was common everywhere in these parts. Somewhere along the way, this
region had grown saturated with resignation and despondency.
A ray of light suddenly fell on a man who was toying with an empty,
upside-down liquor bottle. He squinted.
In the doorway stood a small-statured woman and her male companion.
They entered and shut the door, taking seats at a table next to the drunkards.
One look at the woman, and they all gasped.
She had lustrous, long hair like black silk and deep inky eyes. She was
terrifyingly beautiful, and she winced upon noticing their gazes on her. She
turned in her chair to face them. "If it's all right, I'd like to ask you
gentlemen something."
She wore a bright smile, and the drunkards stared at her, eyeing the
woman up and down.
"Renart, don't you think you went too far?"
"It's what they deserved," he replied as he pushed the men, now beaten
to a pulp, into a corner of the tavern. This was retribution for how they had
tried to abduct Tinasha, giving any excuse they could drum up.
Crouching down next to one man who was still conscious, Tinasha tilted
her head to the side. "So can I ask you a question? Do you know what
Simila is?"
Simila was the so-called god worshipped by the cult that was operating
in the Farsas capital. Tinasha and Renart had come to learn more about it.
The man's eyes widened, filling with fear. "I—I don't! I don't know
anything!"
It was obvious he did, and Tinasha pressed him again. "If you talk now,
you might end up happier…than if you remain quiet."
"I'm tellin' you I don't know anything!" the man cried.
Tinasha stood and exchanged a glance with Renart. Five taverns they
had visited, and each one proved fruitless. They were at a loss.
Giving up on the men who wouldn't confess no matter how they asked,
they took their leave.
"What is going on? I'm positive they all know something," Tinasha said.
"Where did you hear about Simila in the first place?" Renart inquired.
"From a lady-in-waiting who cared for me when I was little. I believe
she was from Cezar."
Tinasha had scoured her diaries and found the word she was looking for
in a passage from when she was six. Then she remembered she had heard
the name invoked by that lady-in-waiting. She had told bedtime stories of
Simila, describing it as a "very scary monster deep below."
According to her journal, Tinasha had a nightmare about black hands
stretching up from a hole in the ground and chasing her.
"I didn't think it would be this much trouble. I'm supposed to meet
Legis soon, so this is quite annoying," Tinasha grumbled. In an hour, she
had to return to Tuldarr for a conference with Legis about her coronation.
Unbeknownst to King Calste, after Legis had woken from his magically
induced coma, the two of them had held numerous discussions about a
certain course of action.
"Perhaps we should go to the capital in Cezar," Tinasha mused.
"Princess Tinasha, please be aware of how much you stand out," advised
Renart, who thought privately that her beauty was one reason the
interrogations hadn't gone well.
He happened to glance out at the town and noticed an old woman sitting
under the eaves of a house. Motioning to Tinasha not to follow, he went
over to the woman alone and crouched down on one knee before her.
"Excuse me, I'd like to ask you about something…"
After several attempts to persuade her, the old woman reluctantly began
to talk. She finally gave them the information they were looking for.
And once they'd heard the full story, Renart and Tinasha stared at each
other in shock.
Two days after Nephelli sent word to Farsas, she arrived via transportation
array.
As far as royal visits went, this one was rather hasty but couldn't be
otherwise given the circumstances. She brought with her three military
officers, two mages, and two ladies-in-waiting. Oscar was there to formally
receive Nephelli, and she gave him an official letter from her father, the
king of Yarda. It read, My prime minister Zisis is attempting to oust the
crown prince, Savas.
While they had no definitive evidence, the king and the prince were
aware he was behaving suspiciously and had decided that Nephelli should
go elsewhere until things calmed down, just in case.
She looked worried indeed, and Oscar smiled at her. They had seen each
other regularly since they were children, but now that she was nineteen, she
was maturing into an adult woman still possessed of sweet, youthful beauty.
"I imagine it won't be easy being in an unfamiliar country, but I hope
you have a relaxing stay here," Oscar said.
"I regret that this is all so sudden. I'm presuming upon your kindness,"
Nephelli replied, curtsying as her pale-pink cheeks reddened.
Oscar left the great hall with her to show the visiting princess to the
room where she would be staying. Both of their guard escorts trailed behind
them.
Tinasha had come to Farsas alone, insisting she could handle herself, but
normally a royal traveled with protectors and servants, as Nephelli did.
When Oscar said as much to Tinasha before, she had shocked him by
revealing there had been a period of time when she cooked her own meals,
too.
Tinasha had left for Tuldarr the day before. With less than a month until
her coronation ceremony, there was much to arrange.
Nephelli looked all around the hallway as she and Oscar walked. Then
she asked timidly, "The princess of Tuldarr is here, too, I believe…?"
"Yes, although she comes and goes like a phantom. Once she's back, I'll
have her come greet you," Oscar replied.
"Prince Legis introduced us once, here in Farsas. She's very beautiful,"
said Nephelli.
That would have been at Oscar's coronation. He winced at the worry
and jealousy in Nephelli's eyes. "She's rather unpredictable. Her personality
is so intense that her appearance doesn't really matter."
A damning appraisal. Nephelli, unsure if Oscar was serious, hesitated
before merely offering him a vague smile.
Upon Tinasha's return to Farsas around sunset, she was informed that there
was to be a banquet for Nephelli that evening. This was relayed by Sylvia,
who stood happily in front of the door to Tinasha's quarters with a makeup
kit and gown bag.
Holding a heavy stack of books from Tuldarr, Tinasha balked, and her
face went stiff. "What…? I have to wear makeup?"
"Of course you do! And you have to wear a gown as well!" insisted
Sylvia.
"Urgh… I should have come back a day later…" Tinasha groaned, but
she let Sylvia enter.
Right away, she hung the gown on the wall and said excitedly, "There's
no way anyone can beat you when you make an effort, so get serious!"
"Who am I supposed to be fighting with…?" Tinasha muttered in a
worn-out voice, drawing a bath as she juggled a stack of papers in her other
hand.
"Princess Nephelli, of course!" Sylvia exclaimed.
"Over what?!"
"I want His Majesty to make you his queen."
"What?!" Tinasha shrieked, so caught off guard by Sylvia's crazy
proclamation that she almost dropped the collection of documents into the
bathtub. Hastily, she clutched them tight against her chest. "Th-that would
be difficult from both a public and a private standpoint…"
"Really?"
"I mean, I'm going to become queen of Tuldarr soon…," reminded
Tinasha.
"That doesn't matter! Tuldarr is right next to Farsas, so all you have to
do is draw a transportation array. Birth two heirs, and you'll be fine!"
"…"
Tinasha felt so exhausted that she couldn't respond immediately. She
went to set the papers down so as not to drop them.
While an extreme case, what Sylvia proposed wasn't strictly impossible.
Still, but no king or queen had ever attempted it before. Two countries
ruled by people who had the same parents would only spell trouble.
However, Tinasha had a reason why that would not be a vital concern
for her. While it was not her explicit goal, that roadblock would cease to
matter along the way.
The true problem was something else.
"Oscar doesn't see me that way at all."
"What?" Sylvia evidently found that claim unbelievable.
Tinasha shrugged. "At most, he doesn't hate me. He treats me exactly
like a kid, so there's no way he would marry me. That much is obvious,
even to me."
Tinasha pushed past a wide-eyed Sylvia to go check on the bath. The
water was ready, so she added some perfumed oils to it and slipped out of
her clothes. She sank into the tub, soaking as she stretched her slender
limbs.
Sylvia entered before long and started to wash Tinasha's long hair. As
the floral scent of the oils permeated the bathroom, Tinasha felt her built-up
exhaustion melt away.
While she was always juggling multiple things at once, there were times
when she was allowed a reprieve. Now was one of those occasions.
At times, the many responsibilities she handled felt hopeless, even if she
knew they were not. Undoubtedly, they took their toll on the young
woman's body. The hot water of the bath and Sylvia's hands cleaning her
locks felt very nice.
Eyes closed, Tinasha pressed on various pressure points on her face.
Done washing her hair, Sylvia frowned at Tinasha's pale body in the tub.
"You're covered in bruises."
"Ah yes, because of sword practice. I can't heal bruises… Although, I
can disguise their appearance," Tinasha explained.
"Why are you learning sword fighting? You're already very strong," said
Sylvia.
"When things happen suddenly, my reactions are slow. There's someone
out there who will come to kill me if I don't improve."
"What sort of crazy daredevil would that be…?" Sylvia wondered in a
hushed tone.
That would be the demon king, but Tinasha only answered with a vague
smile. The two continued to chat throughout the rest of Tinasha's soak, and
when she was done, she climbed out of the tub.
With Tinasha's bruises concealed, her whole body was white as snow,
and though she was a bit too thin, her alluring curves beguiled any who
beheld them. Sylvia caught herself staring at Tinasha's naked form until she
snapped back to her senses and flashed her a confident expression. "About
what we were discussing earlier—a man doesn't gift clothes to a woman he
doesn't care about! Especially not our king!"
With that, Sylvia disappeared back into Tinasha's bedroom and retrieved
the gown the king of Farsas had commissioned specifically for Tinasha,
throwing her stunned friend a sidelong glance as she did.
With the moon rising into the sky, the banquet got underway.
Dozens of high officials and nobles who served the castle milled about
the banquet hall. Nephelli was relieved to receive such a warm welcome.
Up until now, every day at court in her home country was tense and nerveracking. Though it was only for a moment, she was honestly happy to have
landed in a safe place.
Still, she worried for her father and brother who remained in Yarda. Her
father was already quite old, and her brother could be fainthearted. She
couldn't help feeling anxious over whether the two of them could resolve
the situation alone.
If I married into Farsas and gained its support, could I save my father
and brother…?
Nephelli looked to the king of Farsas next to her with that question on
her mind. He noticed her gaze and opened his mouth to say something.
But just then, the crowd around the entrance to the hall began to buzz.
Nephelli and Oscar glanced over, puzzled, and saw the woman who would
rule Tuldarr standing in the doorway.
Tinasha hid her discomfort at being the center of attention. She had
reminded Sylvia again and again that Nephelli was the guest of honor, so
she would prefer to blend in more, but her friend had evidently not listened
at all.
However, even if Sylvia had paid attention to that exhortation, she
would have only insisted Tinasha be more aware of her own striking
appearance. As requested, Sylvia had only applied light makeup in subdued
colors. Yet Tinasha's radiance was so distinctive and rare that it garnered
everyone's attention.
Her navy-blue gown, so dark it seemed almost black, was entirely open
at the back. Layers and layers of light, airy fabrics billowed outward from
her waist down to the floor. She wore few accessories, but that only
enhanced the innate elegance of the woman's form.
Tinasha approached Nephelli in her seat of honor at the front and
curtsied before her. "I apologize for my silence since we first made our
acquaintanceship. It is an honor to meet you again."
Nephelli, who had been in a daze, fascinated by Tinasha's appearance,
leaped to her feet and returned the curtsy. "I must apologize, too, for my
sudden appearance. I hope we shall get along here."
"There is nothing to apologize for. I find myself quite busy as my
coronation approaches, so you will have to forgive any impoliteness,"
Tinasha said with a bright smile as she rose to her feet. She attempted to
bow and retreat, keeping a sociable, soft smile on her lips, but Oscar called
to her.
"That looks good on you."
"Fortunately, yes. Thank you," she replied, her facade never fading
once, and withdrew. Tinasha spent some time by the wall chatting with
Meredina, who was there as security, before excusing herself from the hall.
Nephelli watched her go, cutting a vivid picture even as she left, and
couldn't hold back a sigh. She couldn't believe that such a woman existed,
even though she had met her personally. Feeling as if the light cast by her
utterly charming existence was too much for her, Nephelli averted her eyes
downward.
She did not want to look over and see what kind of expression the man
next to her wore as he watched Tinasha go.
Late at night in his bedroom, Oscar lay facedown on his bed, still dressed
from the party. He managed to stay awake, though he was on the verge of
passing out.
Nark was asleep by his pillow, curled into a ball. The dragon slept most
of the time, unless it was needed. Sometimes he wouldn't find it in his
room, but it would come back if he called for it, so he never worried. Idly,
he reached out for Nark's tail but froze when he heard a knock at the door.
Calling out to see who it was, a most unexpected woman's voice came
back.
"What, this time you came by the front door?" Oscar asked, inviting her
in.
Tinasha gave a shrug of her bare shoulders. "I wouldn't want to intrude
if you had brought the princess back to your room, so I checked with the
guards first before knocking."
"What kind of beast do you think I am…?"
"Figure it out," Tinasha flatly. Nark perked up at the sound of her voice.
The little dragon flapped its wings and flew happily over to its former
master, landing on her shoulder. She giggled and stroked its throat.
This was not a dragon that was friendly to all humans, but it was fond of
Oscar and Tinasha and tolerated a few others like Als and Doan. Tinasha
made her way over to the table, playing with Nark as she walked, and
started to feed it the fruit arranged there.
Oscar watched her, his eyes half lidded. A splash of moonlight poured
onto her ivory back, giving it a brilliant shine. "You're still wearing that
dress?"
"Well, you had it made for me. Is it so strange?"
"No…," the king muttered. The trouble was that it looked much too
good on her. While Oscar was the one who had ordered it, the gown drew
out and enhanced Tinasha's charm beautifully.
Tinasha winced as she pushed a round apple into Nark's mouth. "The
back is open, so I can't quite relax in it."
"I made it that way because you've been so hot lately," Oscar explained.
"You could have just shortened the skirt, then."
"Then you'd look like a kid," he countered. Tinasha was always whining
about how hot it was and wearing sleeveless outfits with short hems, but
she was so blasé about it that it always appeared childish. The future queen
was much more alluring when she wore a gown like she was now.
Deliberately putting space between them, Oscar sat down on his bed.
Eyeing the sheaf of papers in her hands, he asked, "So why are you here?"
"I've got bad news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first?"
"…"
"I'm kidding. There's only one thing," Tinasha said, showing Oscar a
document as he sighed exasperatedly. "It's about Simila. I've finally learned
what it is. Simila is an evil god spoken of in Cezar since ancient times."
"What…?"
"Yes, I'm not surprised you'd react that way. The oldest accounts tell of
a town close to the eastern border of Cezar that worshipped this god, five
hundred years ago. For the following two centuries, it expanded into a
religious group, culminating in the sect founder acting as the king's adviser.
This led to many human sacrifices and wrongful executions of the innocent.
This is all only spoken of by word of mouth, and no one wants to discuss it,
so obtaining this information was not easy."
"You went to go question people?!"
"Yes. I kept getting into scuffles wherever I went, so Renart told me to
leave," Tinasha admitted with a sniff.
Oscar could well understand Renart's feelings, and he let out a sigh.
Someone of moderate beauty would be perfect for drawing out information,
but Tinasha's exquisite looks would only garner undue attention and lead to
extra trouble.
However, the problem now lay elsewhere. Oscar pondered the twists and
turns of this story. "So what you're saying is: Believers of this evil god have
come to Farsas."
"It appears so. It's highly likely that this cult has taken control of the
Cezar royal court. Almost all of Simila's faithful suddenly vanished five
years ago, but that's also when the political situation in Cezar went haywire.
Mages flocked to the castle, and all the magistrates were replaced. More
and more people were drafted as soldiers yet were never heard from again.
There's also been strange disappearances. Cezar's situation is rough, to say
the least, and morale couldn't be lower."
"And this decline was brought about by the religion? What are they even
doing?" Oscar wondered aloud. He didn't think worship and politics should
excessively intermingle, especially when the object of reverence was a
wicked deity. A nation falling to ruin over something like that was the
height of foolishness.
Tinasha came up to Oscar and held out the stack of documents. "I've
summarized all the details here. If there's anything you want to examine,
please do."
"Thanks, that's a big help. Sorry for the trouble," Oscar replied,
accepting the papers.
"It's fine. Sorry I didn't have better news," Tinasha said, flashing him a
slightly bitter smile, one quite different from her public expression.
"How's the analysis going?"
"I'm stuck, but I'll be done once I overcome this block. Just wait a little
while longer," she responded, pulling at her bun. Her hair came undone,
cascading down.
As a curtain of black silk fell over Tinasha's shoulders and back, Oscar
closed his eyes for fear of how utterly bewitching it was. "If you can't
manage it, don't worry."
There was a short pause. Before the silence grew uncomfortable,
Tinasha replied, "I'm fine. If things go well, I'll break it while I'm still in
Farsas. I just need a flash of inspiration."
Her voice was as clear as still waters. Hearing it reminded Oscar that
Tinasha was indeed the ruler of a country, exactly like he was. Mild
loneliness was something she was proud to accept as a natural consequence.
Personal feelings or hesitation weren't reason enough to cease. She
understood that doing what duty demanded was her responsibility.
Thus, the more placid Tinasha conducted herself outwardly, the more
aware Oscar became that the time for the two to part was fast approaching.
Even as an uneasy irritation racked Oscar, he maintained his composure,
too.
He opened his eyes to find her staring at him with concern. A pale hand
touched his cheek. "Are you feeling all right? You look tired."
"I'm fine," Oscar assured. The warmth from Tinasha's soft hand seeped
through to his whole body.
The king felt lonelier with her than he did when alone, most likely
because the two of them were on separate paths.
A serenity came over Tinasha's face, backlit by the moon. She regretted
nothing—accepted everything as it was. Loneliness was only natural.
Perhaps that was why Oscar desired to take her into his arms so
powerfully at that moment.
He wanted to feel her body heat and make sure that her solitude was
something she had chosen herself.
Tinasha gazed anxiously into Oscar's eyes, which held some formless
emotion in them. Suddenly, a serious glint appeared in her dark orbs. She
took his face gently into her hands and then pressed a kiss to his eyelid.
Left astonished by the softness of her lips, Oscar felt a jolt of something
run through him at her kiss.
He desperately wanted to embrace her. He wanted to kiss her deeply and
teach her all about carnal desire. He wanted to take control.
Yet the king suppressed those terrifyingly primal, fierce instincts and
glared up at the woman, his lips pinched. "What are you doing?"
"I felt this odd pull that I couldn't resist. Sorry," Tinasha said without an
ounce of shame, gently releasing Oscar. Her breezy answer gave him a
headache.
She truly was no better than a child at times. Tinasha simply followed
her heart without considering what could come next.
As Oscar rubbed at his temples, Nark hopped onto his lap. Tinasha
stroked along the creature's back.
"Good night, then," she bid him, giggling impishly, as if oblivious to her
own actions.
Oscar eyed her fragile body coldly. "Come during the day next time."
Despite his request, it seemed unlikely that Tinasha would glean the
meaning of his deeply exhausted words.
After the banquet on her first day, Nephelli did not see Tinasha at all.
It was not that she went out of her way to avoid the other royal, rather,
Tinasha simply never seemed to be around. When Nephelli asked a mage of
Farsas about it, he winced and informed her that Tinasha rarely left her
room lately.
"If you're curious, you can go take a look at the training grounds. She
might be there," he said.
Nephelli wasn't curious, exactly. Still, she found herself doing as the
mage had suggested and often strolled along the walkway that led to the
training grounds.
On her tenth day in Farsas, Nephelli found Tinasha there, practicing with
a sword. Her opponent was the king of Farsas, and Nephelli took in this
unexpected scene with wide eyes.
The sounds of weapons clashing were soft, as if he was matching his
strength to hers, but they came at a swift pace.
With a curt exhale, Oscar knocked Tinasha's sword into the air. Nephelli
gasped as the weapon spun overhead. Astonishingly, Tinasha teleported the
armament back into her grip before its blade plunged into the ground.
Oscar eyed his adversary with some frustration. "Your physical
movements haven't caught up with your awareness. You need to move more
instinctively," he advised.
"I'll do my best."
"You can read what your opponent will do next from their shoulders.
But take in the whole picture, too," instructed Oscar.
Tinasha nodded obediently, then glanced down at her right arm. A
reddish-brown bruise was blooming near the shoulder, the result of a blow
she had failed to deflect. With a touch from her hand, Tinasha caused it to
vanish.
Impressed, Oscar remarked, "That's handy."
"I only concealed the appearance. Magic can't heal bruises," Tinasha
explained, using a cloth to wipe her sweat-slicked sword hilt. Then she
grabbed ahold of it again, looked up, and tilted her head to one side in
confusion.
Oscar looked thunderstruck. Not knowing why, she tilted her head the
other way.
"You, you… Why didn't you tell me that sooner?! Your body must be
covered in bruises!" he exclaimed.
"It is, but they don't hurt. I can mend the internal part," Tinasha coolly
replied.
"That's not the problem."
"What? It's the same thing as blending makeup into your skin. And I
don't expect to get better without some pain along the way. So please, let's
keep going," the young woman insisted.
"I feel pretty depressed right about now," Oscar muttered.
"Why?" Tinasha questioned with irritation, even as she readied her
sword. She slashed down at Oscar, not waiting for his acknowledgment.
He parried it quite easily, however. The pair then exchanged another
twenty or so moves.
Oscar didn't miss Tinasha's movements slowing when he handily fended
away her blade, and he took a step in and sent her weapon flying. He drove
his sword in toward Tinasha's neck, now undefended.
Immediately, she threw up her left arm and caught the blow, leaping
back. "O-ow."
"Use your magic!" Oscar snapped at Tinasha irritably. His intention had
never been to actually stab her throat, but she had countered on instinct and
wound up injured for it. The response had likely been fostered in past lifeor-death conflicts. Prioritizing survival, even if it meant certain sacrifices,
was a concept that had been ingrained into Tinasha over the years.
Still gripping her sword, she pressed a hand to her left arm. "You still
ended up hitting me."
"You won't progress without some pain along the way, right? If you
don't like it, use magic to defend yourself."
"No. That would be cheating," she dismissed primly.
Oscar thought that an unbelievably stubborn response. He wished to
know who raised this obstinate creature.
With an annoyed click of his tongue, Oscar stepped back. Then he felt a
gaze upon him and looked to see Nephelli standing close by, accompanied
by two guards.
When he caught sight of her concerned expression, he winced and
waved her over. Hesitantly, she sauntered onto the training grounds from
the end of the covered walkway.
Tinasha noticed her, too, and grinned. "Hello. Out for a walk?"
Nephelli was taken aback by this innocent smile so unlike the one
Tinasha had worn during the welcome banquet, but she hid her surprise and
bobbed her head respectfully. "Yes… I wanted to stretch my legs a little.
Princess Tinasha, whatever are you doing?"
"Training. I have a lot of free time right now," she replied, her eyes
narrowing with her smile. The expression betrayed no emotion. Curiously,
Nephelli felt a sense of uneasiness sweep over her. She was a royal, too, and
had learned some swordplay as self-defense. Although she kept up regular
practice, she had never undergone such intense drills. Oscar and Tinasha
were both rulers and yet seemed to believe it a matter of course that they
fight in the thick of combat. It was frightening.
Unaware that Nephelli was trembling with fear, Oscar asked Tinasha, "Is
it okay that you're still in Farsas? You've got preparations to do for your
coronation, don't you?"
"Legis is handling them for me. I tried to handle things myself, but the
castle staff wrested responsibility from me when I slashed the guest list.
Don't worry; I'm doing my job properly."
That was probably true. Outside of sword practice, Oscar hadn't seen
Tinasha out and about much recently. At times, he detected exhaustion
written all over her face. Secretly, he was worried.
Tinasha checked the clock on the outer wall and bowed her head. "Is it
about time? Thank you for practicing with me."
"Hurry up and do something to prevent all that bruising," Oscar
instructed.
"I'll handle it," Tinasha replied. Evidently planning to stay, she had just
taken Oscar's sword from him when she stared in the direction of the
walkway. Oscar turned around, following her gaze. There stood Nephelli's
guards, a military officer and a mage.
"What is it…?" Oscar inquired. Tinasha looked like a cat sniffing out an
unfamiliar human. Unsure of the issue, Oscar made to leave, urging
Nephelli along. But immediately after, he whipped around. Out of the
corner of his eye, he spotted Tinasha lifting her hands up as she whispered
an incantation.
Once he'd made sure of that, he picked up Nephelli. Everything
happened so swiftly that there wasn't time for the Yardan princess to feel
discombobulated before a sound like nails scratching on a chalkboard raked
the air.
"Scatter."
With that one word from Tinasha's lips, the awful noise stopped.
Keeping Nephelli in his arms, Oscar asked, "Where did that come from?"
"Wait. Mila!" Tinasha called.
"Mm-hmm, here I am! What do you need?" answered a red-haired girl
who popped out of thin air.
Tinasha gave her spirit orders. "Go after the assassin. I want them alive,
but if that's not possible, kill them."
"Got it, got it!" the girl trilled, letting out a laugh like tinkling bells as
she disappeared.
With the spirit gone, Oscar finally set Nephelli down. Pressing her hands
to her reddened cheeks, she gazed up at Oscar. "Um, so…what just
happened?"
"Ah well… An assassin broke through the castle wards. Looks like
they've already escaped, but it'd be best to return inside," he said.
The blood drained from Nephelli's face. She glanced over at her guard
soldier and mage to check their reactions. Oscar smiled awkwardly down at
the woman, whose lower lip was trembling. "Well, we don't know who or
what their target was. Could've been the explosives behind us."
"If they think that's enough to kill me, they're stupider than I thought.
That's what they get for being so unaware," Tinasha stated with a shrug,
walking over to return the sword Oscar was using to him.
Nothing could reassure Nephelli in the slightest—not the sight of
Tinasha looking as composed as if nothing had transpired, nor the equally
unperturbed Oscar putting a hand around Nephelli's shoulders.
After leaving the training grounds, Tinasha retired to the castle's grand bath,
diving into the water and splashing about while washing off her sweat. This
had become her custom ever since her plunge in the underground Lake of
Silence. Oscar had told Tinasha to learn how to swim, and while she was
trying, she had yet to succeed.
As Tinasha sat submerged in the water, she heard her spirit's voice right
above her head and stood, brushing water off her face with her hands. Mila
was floating overhead. "Lady Tinasha, you can't breathe while swimming?"
"I don't know how. Do you?"
"Demons don't swim, so no. More importantly, I caught the assassin.
Should I send them here?"
"That's fine, but I am still naked," Tinasha reminded, squeezing water
out of her ponytail and walking over to the shower area. She summoned
clothes into her hands. As she was pulling on a pale-blue sundress, a man
she didn't recognize appeared on the floor before her. He seemed to be a
mage, and there were cuts covering his body. After arriving, he wriggled
around on the floor, looking every which way.
Tinasha arched an eyebrow as she beheld the sight. "Welcome. Sorry
we're meeting here of all places, but I need to ask you some questions."
When the man looked up, he saw an extremely beautiful and cruel smile
on the woman's lips.
Oscar, who had returned to his study after escorting Nephelli back to her
rooms, gave a strained smile to Tinasha and Als when they entered. Eyeing
the bound, battered man, the king asked Tinasha, "What did you find out?"
"His target was, in fact, Princess Nephelli. He's an assassin from Yarda.
However, he worked through an intermediary, so he's oblivious to the one
who gave the order. He's just a hired man," Tinasha reported, eyes flitting
over to the hired killer as she crossed her arms and leaned against the table.
Sweat was pouring down the nervous man's temples; his magic had been
sealed off.
Oscar gazed at him with his head in one hand, as if he could hardly be
bothered with this. "An assailant breaking through our wards is
concerning."
"Mmm, I think he just knew what was going on inside. An external
entity can't plow through a magical barrier without permission, but you can
be let in on foot."
"Got it. Als, make him talk."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Als responded with a bow, then dragged the
assassin out of the room.
What Tinasha was implying was that there was a traitor in the castle.
Oscar doubted whether this hired assassin would expose the turncoat's
identity, but it was worth trying.
Oscar lifted his chin off his hand and leaned back in his chair, crossing
his legs. "Damn nuisance. Even if he tells us he was hired by Yarda's prime
minister or something, I can't do a thing about it."
"You can't?"
"It's another country's affairs. All I can do is inform Yarda," he
answered with a sigh, twirling a pen in his hands as he stared at the ceiling.
Tinasha asked Oscar if he wanted tea, and he said yes. The king smiled,
feeling as if it had been a very long time since he'd watched her brew tea.
Tinasha opened the door and asked the lady-in-waiting beyond for some
water, then turned back to face him.
"Oh, but couldn't you get involved if you got engaged to her?" Tinasha
proposed airily.
Oscar's eyes widened. More surprising than the suggestion itself was the
fact that it came from Tinasha. Careful not to let his inner feelings show,
Oscar replied, "Get engaged to someone just for that? That's a big ask."
"So cold… Do you not think her a suitable candidate?" Tinasha pressed.
The inquiry was not without merit. Yarda, Farsas's neighbor to the east,
had enjoyed a friendly relationship with Farsas in the ten years since the
countries warred. If the two nations joined in marriage, relations would be
stabilized for quite a while.
However, Yarda wasn't the only country looking to make a match with
Farsas. After all, it was one of the most powerful nations in all the land,
rivaled only by Tuldarr and Cezar.
Neither was inclined to seek a marriage alliance with Farsas, though.
Cezar, because of its many years of strained relations with Farsas, and
Tuldarr, because the peculiar Magic Empire kept to itself.
Glancing over at the woman who would become queen of Tuldarr in
twenty short days, Oscar watched her reach out to take a pitcher of water
from the lady-in-waiting.
While the air Tinasha had about her typically was anything but regal, she
actually kept a rational, levelheaded disposition as a queen. Her suggestion
to wed Nephelli was evidence of that.
As she began to pour the water she had heated with magic into the
teapot, she said in a crisp voice, "If you become engaged to her, you will
have ample justification for interfering in Yardan affairs. It would put her at
ease, too… I suspect her intention in coming here had something to do with
that anyway."
Oscar almost nodded but then frowned. "Perhaps that was Yarda's plan
in sending her here. If she dies at home, then any hope of aid from Farsas
vanishes."
"Oh, I see… But if she perishes here, you become obligated to assist,"
Tinasha surmised.
"Dammit. How much longer is this going to drag on?"
"Until things in Yarda reach a conclusion, I imagine. And we don't know
how long that will take," Tinasha stated, keeping an intent gaze fixed on the
teapot as she shook it to steam the tea leaves. Her focus likely had nothing
to do with Yarda's problems; she was determined to make tea.
To Tinasha, Yarda's predicament was a neighbor's neighbor's problem.
She was even further from it than Oscar. Whether she had an opinion on the
matter or not, she possessed no desire or ability to intervene. Such was
perfectly normal for a queen of Tuldarr.
Glancing over at her lovely face in profile, Oscar remembered
something. "Oh yeah, you were staring hard at Nephelli's guards earlier.
Did you find them suspicious or something?"
"What? You saw that? No, that wasn't why. I was just startled by how
much magic her mage has."
"Mage?" Oscar repeated, trying to recall his face but failing. The fellow
hadn't made a strong impression.
Tinasha looked guilty. "He's suppressing his power, but there's nothing
wrong with a royal guard doing that. He's probably stronger than the mages
Princess Nephelli keeps as her closest associates. So I was just wondering if
he'd want to come to Tuldarr; that's all."
"Don't try to poach other countries' mages so casually."
"I didn't say anything to him!" Tinasha shouted indignantly, then put a
soft smile back on her face. "Setting any poaching aside, I'll take on
anything I can help with. You need only to ask."
"Thanks. I do want to get this sorted out while you're still around."
"By the way, my analysis should take another two weeks. I'm currently
waiting on a magic implement," Tinasha calmly revealed.
Oscar's eyes widened, reality hitting him all of a sudden that the curse
shackling him for fifteen years would soon be lifted. It felt like a fantasy.
He should be glad to get rid of it. But at the same time, it meant losing his
connection to her.
A little while later, Tinasha placed a steaming teacup on the desk before
Oscar. He glanced up at her. Impulsively, he blurted out, "It's not going to
fall through?"
"Don't say that!" she cried, making a terrible face at him.
"It fell through, hmm? That tramp failed." Zisis sighed in disappointment
upon receiving the report.
Nephelli staying in Farsas had troubled him at first, but now he focused
his efforts on using that against the royal faction. If she died in Farsas, no
one would blame him for it as long as his link to the assassin remained
unknown. This would allow him to take advantage of the opening left by
her death.
The king and Savas were aware of Zisis's shady maneuvers, but without
proof, they could only stand and watch.
Zisis found it irritating that their power was that limited. Perhaps he
should have delighted in his enemy's ineptitude, but that adversary was the
royal family of his homeland. Had they enough power of their own, he
never would have had to do all this. Zisis's face twisted bitterly with a mix
of frustration and patriotism.
Regardless, he had to do something about Nephelli. She had known the
king of Farsas since they were children. It would spell trouble for him if
they were to get engaged. Unlike the former king of Farsas, who had
provided aid to Yarda, the young man on the throne now was shrewd. It was
Zisis's secret fear that he would annex Yarda through marriage with
Nephelli.
"…It is imperative that I deal with the princess."
Zisis faltered at the idea of murdering her, but she was the one who
abandoned her duty and fled to another country. As he told himself that, he
gave new instructions to make his next move.
Three days after the assassin incident, Als delivered a report to Oscar.
Evidently, the hired killer had received instructions via the intermediary
about how to infiltrate the castle. He had gone through the eastern gate,
which was regularly guarded but had been left momentarily vulnerable
upon the outbreak of a small fire.
"So someone let him in. Who do you think it was?" asked Oscar.
"For now, I suspect one of the people who came with the princess,
because after what happened before, we thoroughly investigated everyone
working in the castle," answered Als, referring to how the religious cult had
plotted Tinasha's poisoning and sent a woman to break into the treasure
vault. After arresting those involved, Oscar had ordered the leaders of the
cult all executed, and the lower-ranking members of the organization were
sent home under close supervision. At that time, every person working for
the castle became a subject of investigation into whether they had ties to
any suspicious people.
Oscar pressed the back of his pen against his forehead. "How much
should I get involved in this…? For the time being, be wary of anyone from
Yarda. Once I've decided on a method of approach, I'll send further
instructions."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Als replied, retreating from the room.
An unhappy mood settled over Oscar, and his gaze fell onto the papers
on his desk. He recalled how Tinasha had acted earlier.
He'd imagined her the jealous type, but she was oddly composed, which
was troubling. The night they came back from the Lake of Silence, she had
told him that their current relationship was enough. Had she truly given up
on her attachment to him already? Putting aside the time when she was
drunk, Tinasha's reaction had been entirely different when speaking to
Delilah. Maybe the situation had been different then, Delilah being who she
was.
Oscar had led Tinasha to believe he held no interest in her, and the man
understood he had no right to be upset. Even so, vague irritation flickered
through his mind as he gathered together all the documents he didn't need
and dumped them on Lazar, who had just entered.
At the same time, the seemingly unenvious Tinasha was in her room
floating upside down. In a reversal of their usual positions, her spirit was
sitting in a chair gazing up at her master. There was an appalled look on her
face.
"If it bothers you that much, why don't you just kill her?"
"I'm not going to kill her!"
The topic of discussion was the recently targeted princess of Yarda.
Annoyed, Tinasha gazed at her hands. She had a sealing ring on every
finger.
It wasn't her place to step in. Therefore, she had given the most logicalsounding opinion.
Yet Tinasha was hopelessly distressed over the idea of Oscar deepening
his connection with Nephelli beyond mere diplomatic friendship. She could
have admitted to not liking it, but doing so risked forfeiting all ability to
keep herself in check. Thus, she was trying very hard not to think about it.
Her magic was still fluctuating in reaction to her emotions, however.
After putting up a barrier around the windowpanes that strained under the
pressure, Tinasha set herself rotating in midair.
That was when a man's voice entreated, "Oh, kill her, kill her. It's so
much easier to be wicked."
"Travis?!" Tinasha yelped, hastily righting herself.
At the table, Mila recoiled in shock. There he was in the seat across from
her, having appeared at some point.
"What are you doing here…?" asked Tinasha somewhat nervously.
Mila bowed formally to Travis; he responded with a casual wave. "I had
some free time, so I came to tease you. It's so fun how you keep making
one rival after another."
"She's not my rival… It has nothing to do with me," Tinasha declared
sulkily.
Travis's eyes danced as he watched her like one would an amusing toy.
He spread his arms wide, acting grand. "The prince of Yarda is so
weakhearted. I think you'd see eye to eye much more with the prime
minster."
"Really?"
"Yes, that prime minister is a sly one. Once he realized the prince had no
aptitude for royal duties or judging character, he turned on him. He'll
sacrifice one for the good of many and do whatever it takes to settle things
quickly. Quite gallant, don't you think?" said Travis.
It was an open compliment, but coming from the mouth of the demon
king, it was impossible to interpret as an honest one. Tinasha landed on the
floor and leaned against an empty chair, a sour look on her face. "How do
you know all that?"
"Because I've been in Gandona. I keep tabs on the neighboring
countries," he replied.
Gandona was a Great Nation to the east that shared a border with Farsas
and Yarda. It was not that surprising to learn that Travis was there, though it
was unsettling to hear him use such a human turn of phrase.
Suspicious, Tinasha asked, "You're keeping tabs on them? For what
purpose? Other countries shouldn't have anything to do with you."
"Oh, but they do. I'm the guardian of an heir to the throne," Travis idly
admitted.
"What?!"
"Eh, you'll find out soon enough. Eventually, I'm going to take the
country and give it to my girl."
Tinasha didn't understand what he meant by that at all.
It was clear that Travis was meddling in Gandona's affairs on behalf of
someone he'd taken a fancy to. This was unprecedented, not to mention
terrifying. "What are you going to do once you've taken the country…?"
"Who knows? I haven't decided yet. Although I won't do anything to
your country, as a favor to Leonora."
"Was that not balanced out by the debt I incurred when I lost to you?"
Tinasha inquired.
"I've lent you your life, which I will take back someday. This is a
separate matter," replied Travis with a cocky grin.
Tinasha was gratified and yet also not. The demon king said he wouldn't
do anything to her country, but Farsas lay between Gandona and Tuldarr.
Farsas was the one more in danger, so that was the one she didn't want him
touching.
Saying as much would only invite unwanted interest from Travis,
considering how much enjoyment he got out of doing things people hated.
A smile spread across his lips, as if he saw right through her concerns.
"So? Do you want to kill her now?"
"No!"
If Tinasha did give in to that temptation, she would undoubtedly become
the strongest assassin ever. Unsurprisingly, she grimaced and refused to.
Travis snorted, as if he thought that was no fun. "You have so much
power. Haven't you ever wanted to make better use of it? It's so boring how
you only play the defensive."
"Power is just one part of a person. I don't want to be controlled by that
single portion," she countered.
"What's so bad about exploring what you have? Don't you want him?"
"You don't win a person's heart by killing another," Tinasha returned, a
blank look on her face.
That was a simple fact. Even if she slew a woman Oscar loved, that
didn't mean he would love her. It would only lead to the opposite.
Travis frowned. He opened his mouth to say something but kept silent.
Tinasha glanced over at him, wondering about his sudden silence, and
found him giving a sardonic smile. "Well, whatever. More importantly, a
pesky insect has gotten into your castle. Have you noticed?"
"Do you mean the assassin? I feel awful for the princess of Yarda."
"Not him. Another insect."
"What?" asked Tinasha, brow furrowed. If someone else besides the
assassin had stolen in, she couldn't overlook it.
Travis smirked, clearly satisfied with himself. "Do your very best. Trust
too much in your own power, and you'll get tripped up all too easily. That's
the sort of opponent you're up against."
"The sort of—What do you mean by that?" Tinasha demanded, wanting
more details, but Travis vanished. He had said his piece and then
disappeared, leaving her flabbergasted. "Wh-what just happened…?"
"Who knows…?" said Mila, exchanging glances with her mistress over
Travis's inscrutable conduct.
Curiously, when Tinasha had stated that love was not won through
murder, Travis had appeared almost hurt. Tinasha was left with an
indescribably bad taste in her mouth. "I feel so…disconcerted."
"That's usually what happens when you get involved with him. Are you
going to search for this 'insect'?"
"If I can, but I don't have the slightest idea who it could be," Tinasha
admitted, tapping a finger against her temple. Then she shook her head and
reached for her mage's robe. "For now, I'm going to get some exercise at
the training grounds. Maybe I'll think of something—or at least clear my
head. If I can best Oscar, the rules say I can knock him down. I want to."
"I've never seen you get a hit in on the Akashia swordsman, though."
"That's because I'm not using magic!" Tinasha shouted back, flying out
of the room once she was done changing. Mila smirked as she watched her
go.
"I didn't get to clear my head…"
"Did you say something?"
"No, nothing," Tinasha replied as she summoned invisible orbs.
She sent them speeding toward Oscar, who sliced all of them down
silently. This was only the ninth time they had done these drills, and Oscar
had nearly mastered his magical sight.
At first, he had proposed that Tinasha practice this with him during their
sword training, but that left her unable to concentrate on meeting his
swings. So they did first one and then the other. Oscar had started his
magical-sight lessons later than Tinasha's sword combat, but he was making
far more noticeable progress.
As she increased the speed of the orbs, Tinasha asked him about
something else. "Ultimately, what do you think you're going to do?"
"What indeed," the young king replied, making it sound like somebody
else's problem.
Curling her lip, Tinasha fired three orbs to land at once. But Oscar took
half a step back and dispatched them neatly. Tinasha felt irritated at how
unaffected the man appeared.
"Well, is the matter already settled or not?" she pressed.
"I haven't decided. Hmm. Considering what's best for another country is
a different story, however. I'll go with the flow."
"…Shouldn't you just get married and annex her country?"
"Sounds annoying," he stated flatly, making Tinasha's eyebrows knit.
Oscar went on as he fielded an even more vicious hail of invisible attacks.
"Even if I invade and expand Farsas, it's hard to say what could happen
after my death. And in that case, the status quo is perfectly fine."
Underneath his words lay a confident assertion—that as long as he was
alive, he was confident he could handle things, no matter how large the
country got. Looking at him acting like this was no big deal shifted
Tinasha's unease into ire. She vented her anger into drawing up a spell.
"Strands of spider silk, go forth and capture."
Immediately, a gigantic net came down on Oscar. His eyes wide, he slid
his blade over the core of the spell.
But the spell, which should have been torn to pieces, repaired itself.
Ballooning, it rushed for him. Oscar took a huge leap back, but the spell
closed the distance immediately.
The magic net reached him, invisible webbing entangling itself around
his entire body until he couldn't move. Oscar narrowed his eyes at Tinasha.
"What the hell is this…?"
"It's what Travis did to me before. Unless you strike its multiple vital
points at the same time, it will reconstitute. The real thing sank through to
the bone. It seemed like I could use it, so I crafted an imitation."
"…I see," Oscar remarked, perhaps saying nothing more beyond that
because he sensed she was taking her vexation out on him. Once she undid
the spell, he sighed and walked back over to her. Checking his grip on his
sword, he beckoned to her. "Your turn now, then."
"Go ahead."
Oscar hated the idea of bruising Tinasha, but once he got into the
practice mentality, he struck at her mercilessly.
And though he was going easy on her, he didn't balk at injuring her.
Someone else may have objected, but Tinasha was grateful for it.
No pain, no gain—she didn't expect it to be otherwise. And besides,
once she sunk into the thrill of battle, it hardly bothered her.
Catching her breath, Tinasha lifted her sword and leaped off the ground
toward Oscar. The air around her was imbued with an illusion of crystalclear awareness.
Nephelli's personal mage, Gait, pondered what to do next as he guarded her
door that evening.
Oscar and Als had alluded to a traitor among the party from Yarda. Other
than himself, only three officers, one mage, and two ladies-in-waiting had
come to Farsas, but he found all of them to be trustworthy. He wouldn't
know which one to suspect. Nephelli didn't know about the turncoat, but
she tended to stay shut up in her room, perhaps suspecting that something
was amiss. Recently, she took all her meals alone there.
"Can Princess Nephelli hold out like this…?"
"What's wrong?" came a voice to his side, and Gait looked over to see
the other mage who had come from Yarda. He had brown hair and a
friendly face, and he was eminently capable despite his youth.
Gait, who was on his fifth year working as a court mage, winced at the
other man. "Oh, Valt. I was just thinking that if we came all the way to
Farsas only to be targeted by an assassin, maybe we should have remained
in Yarda…"
If the enemy only had the courage to act because they were somewhere
the king of Yarda couldn't reach, then fleeing abroad had been a mistake.
Strange as it was, Princess Nephelli might have been safer in her homeland.
As Gait thought on that, Valt shook his head. "We can handle it better in
Farsas. They have the royal sword."
"Akashia, huh…? But we don't know if we're up against a mage," Gait
replied.
The one sword in the entire land that could neutralize any magic was
indeed mighty, but it was only a sword—one that belonged to the king. He
couldn't stay by Nephelli's side around the clock.
Valt laughed when he heard Gait's concern. "If anything, it's the bearer
of Akashia who's more crucial than the sword itself. I'm positive he'll be a
strong ally to Her Highness. And as for Farsas, they don't want anything to
happen to a foreign royal within their borders. I'm sure they'll offer
whatever assistance they can. Who knows? Perhaps this might forge a bond
between our two nations in the days to come."
The man was referring to a marriage between Farsas and Yarda. Gait
frowned on reflex. "Yes, that would certainly be what she also—"
Suddenly, a lady-in-waiting and an officer of Yarda arrived with
Nephelli's meal. Gait accompanied them into the room, where another other
lady-in-waiting was arranging the princess's hair.
"How are you doing, Princess Nephelli?" Gait inquired. In reply, she
gave him a weak smile. Mere day-to-day life seemed to exhaust her. He
gazed at this lovely princess, feeling his heart go out to her. "Would you
care to venture outside your room? You'll have your guards, and it would be
a shame not to see Farsas while you're here."
"I suppose…," Nephelli said with a nod. As Gait's face fell, the ladiesin-waiting tasted the food for poison and served the princess her meal. She
didn't appear hungry as she turned her attention to it.
Gait urged her, "Try to eat just a little. You're going to get yourself
sick."
"I know," Nephelli replied, picking up a cup of tea and pressing it softly
to her red lips.
Right after that came a thud as something heavy hit the floor. Gait
looked in that direction and saw one of the ladies-in-waiting lying on the
ground.
Her eyes were glassy and unfocused. Bloody foam dribbled from her
mouth.
Time stood still. The scent of death sucked all sound from the room and
wafted into the air.
For several horrible, blank seconds, Nephelli's scream echoed
throughout the entire castle, piercing enough to almost cut through that
binding spell.
By the time people came running in, the lady-in-waiting was already dead.
Tinasha did a quick inspection, then shook her head at Kumu and Oscar
as they arrived. "It's a magic potion, though not a rare one. The maker is
unknown. Sorry I can't be more helpful."
"That's plenty. What was it put into?" asked Oscar.
"The soup. Apparently, she died after tasting it for poison."
"We'll find out who made it," Oscar declared, already waving over a
soldier to issue orders.
However, Tinasha moved to stop him. "I don't think the potion was
added during preparation. I ate the same thing myself."
Oscar frowned, and Als added, "Many people had that soup besides
Princess Tinasha, and they had no problems. Also, no trace of the
concoction was found in the pot. The meal was brought in by a lady-inwaiting and officer of Yarda, but the officer has gone missing. According to
her, he's the one who picked up the meal."
"That's so suspicious it doesn't seem real," Oscar remarked with a snort.
Evidently, the dead lady-in-waiting and missing officer had served the
princess for many years. The soldier, Eneas, was close with the two ladiesin-waiting, giving him plenty of opportunities to contaminate the food.
Such was Gait's theory. For now, Oscar ordered a search of the castle to
discover if Eneas was hiding within.
After Oscar and his close associates moved to a nearby council room,
Gait bowed his head deeply before the king. "I'm aware this is an
imposition, but would you be willing to lend your assistance to Princess
Nephelli?"
"Of course. We'll tighten her guard and capture whoever did this."
"Thank you. But I was referring to something more…" Gait trailed off,
hesitating. The meaning was obvious. Gait wanted a more fundamental type
of aid. Namely, Oscar intervening directly in Yarda's internal conflict.
Was the crown prince in Yarda so unreliable that his subjects had to beg
a foreign king for help? Many in the room held scathing opinions of Gait's
request, but it seemed like there was more to the story.
Gait continued, though there was a keen uncertainty to his tone.
"Princess Nephelli has held you in high regard for ten years now. Won't
you…?"
Oscar held up a hand, silencing the other man. Next to him, Tinasha had
her eyes closed and a blank look on her face. Oscar scowled internally at
the meaning implicit in Gait's words.
It absolutely would not be worth it. He didn't hate Nephelli or anything
like that, but it would be more trouble than anything to take her as a queen
or mistress and intervene in Yarda's affairs. It certainly wouldn't be fun.
However, that didn't mean he wanted to make a clear rejection of the
offer. More than likely, the Yardan royal family had been hoping for his
involvement all along.
Carefully masking his reluctance behind a calm front, Oscar said,
"Understood. I'll do what I can."
Visible relief washed over Gait's face. He bowed deeply. Oscar asked
him a few more follow-up questions before dismissing him.
In an even voice, Tinasha inquired, "Have you decided to get involved?"
"Looks like I have no choice."
"I'll help you, then."
"…Sorry about this," Oscar apologized as Tinasha faced forward, not
looking at him.
The king felt somewhat heavyhearted, though he did not know rightly
why.
"Prime Minister Zisis and Crown Prince Savas were more or less just as
you said, Princess Tinasha."
Three days had passed since the attempted poisoning, and Eneas was yet
to be found. Renart had gone to Yarda on Tinasha's orders and was now
delivering a summarized account.
Originally, Renart worked for Legis, but as of late, he carried out
Tinasha's orders more often than not. The two were in Tinasha's quarters in
Farsas, sipping tea as they went over the report.
"When Savas began to dip his toes into assisting with public affairs, he
rejected the prime minister's reform proposal and other suggestions on the
grounds that they were 'too unconventional.' At the same time, he
appointed his relatives to various posts and stripped Zisis of his power. The
king grew ill shortly thereafter."
"What are these relatives he's appointed like?" questioned Tinasha.
"Royal blood is all they have, it seems. All they do is waste money on
frivolities."
"Hmm… Saving the royal family doesn't sound much like saving
Yarda."
"That might be so. But it's possible that the royal family considers
themselves the country itself," Renart pointed out.
Tinasha had wavered over it considerably, but she only wished to help
Oscar, not Yarda. There was no need for her to concern herself with the
ethics or future ramifications of the situation.
Just then, there was a light rap at the door. Renart answered it and
brought in the guest. Tinasha's eyes widened at this unexpected visitor.
"You are…"
"My name is Valt, Your Highness."
The mage smiled brightly and bowed. This was one of Nephelli's
guards; Tinasha had caught a glimpse of him before at the training grounds.
She stared intently at him. "You're suppressing your magic. In truth, you
have more than a nation's chief mage, don't you?"
"Oh, certainly not that much. It's simply that most of that magic is
acquired, and I don't need others knowing about it, so I keep it hidden," he
replied.
Tinasha nodded. How exactly one came to possess more than their
natural amount of magical power was a private matter, often concerning
unique circumstances. Tinasha herself was the same way, so she pressed
that matter no further. Instead, she asked, "Why have you come to see me?
Do you have some idea who the assassin is?"
"No, nothing to do with that…," he admitted, looking uncomfortable as
he showed her the books of magic he was holding. "I had a question about a
spell. I'm sorry to bother you at this hour."
Tinasha was taken aback at this but soon broke into a smile. Tuldarr
attracted the interest and admiration of mages from other countries.
Approving of this young man who made no secret of his passion for study,
even under such circumstances, Tinasha offered him a seat.
"Go ahead and ask. I hope it's something I can answer. Whatever I can't,
Renart can."
"Princess Tinasha, I'm not sure this is…"
"I'll take you up on that, thank you," stated Valt.
Sitting around the table, the three of them debated various topics related
to magic. It was a wonderful break for Tinasha, who had been spending all
her time and energy on curse analysis and coronation arrangements as of
late.
After their third cup of tea, Valt got to his feet. Beaming, he said,
"Thank you so much. Now I'll be at liberty to get back to guarding Princess
Nephelli. We've obtained the cooperation of the king of Farsas, too, so their
engagement should come any day now."
"What?" Tinasha replied blankly.
Valt went on, matter-of-factly. "That is Yarda's intention, considering
that he's taken Her Highness into his care. It's the perfect opportunity,
seeing as the pair have been acquainted for so long. I'm positive they'll
make for a loving couple." After a pause, he added, "Princess Tinasha, that
man will be perfectly happy no matter whom he marries."
Valt broke off there, fixing Tinasha with an incredibly earnest look. "So
you should set yourself free as well."
He flashed her a wry smile, as if sympathizing with her.
What did Valt mean by that? While Tinasha was too stunned to speak,
Renart said, "What do you think you're doing? She is—"
"I am well aware she's the princess of Tuldarr. Please take very good
care of yourself. Thank you for indulging me."
Before Tinasha could get a word out, Valt bowed smoothly and took his
leave.
Tinasha had the distinct sensation of having been left behind. She
glanced at the tabletop, where cups full of cooled tea sat.
"Set myself free…?"
Valt had looked at her with the eyes of one who could see through to the
truth of almost all he heard. Maybe that explained the keen sense of loss
Tinasha felt. She pressed a hand to her aching heart.
"…Who he marries is not my concern."
Farsas wasn't her home, nor were she and Oscar mere citizens. Forlorn
or not, she couldn't let her feelings get the better of her. There was no other
option. She would just live out the rest of her life with this inexhaustible
heat inside her.
Tinasha thought of the day she would leave Farsas. Her coronation was
in less than three weeks.
Another week passed, but the missing officer still hadn't turned up. That
night, a despondent Nephelli reluctantly left her room at the personal
invitation of Oscar. She made her way to the great hall, ringed by her guard
soldiers and lady-in-waiting. A deep-blue carpet covered the floor of the
glass-ceilinged chamber; bowls of fruit and cooked dishes were laid out on
top of it.
From deeper within, the king of the castle asked her, "How are you
feeling?"
"I'm very sorry I made you go to all this trouble…"
"It's no hassle. I should be apologizing for the lack of progress in our
search," Oscar stated, sitting down directly on the carpet and encouraging
Nephelli and her attendants to partake of the food. The princess's guard
contingent consisted of two military officers named Nino and Lucanos, as
well as Valt the mage. On Oscar's side were Als, Kumu, Doan, and Sylvia.
The entire group sat in a circle.
Nephelli, seated next to Oscar, gradually began to smile as he urged
food and wine on her. For the first time in a while, she began to feel
relieved.