Commendation
Commendation
From the moment I finished talking with Esmue right up until I left, I tried to get confirmation that her last words had been a joke, but the results were poor.
"Wouldn't you find out on the day you return safely? If you're curious, you just have to survive and come back."
"No, it's closer to fear than curiosity..."
I got smacked for talking nonsense and headed to the carriage alone, sent off by Esmue. Her absence didn't change the carriage or the attendants. At first, I wondered if it was a ruse to hide Esmue's movements, but seeing their attitude remain as excessively courteous as ever, it seemed there was more to it than just that.
"Where shall I take you?"
"To the Academy, please."
I was still restless with the lingering feeling of seeing her after so long, but for Seneran's sake—who had left on a quest in my stead—I couldn't afford to skip today's studies.
◈
They say time flies when you're busy, and I'd always agreed with that maxim, but after returning to the capital, time seemed to flow even faster within the peaceful daily routine.
After being hounded by the Suicide Bomber Saint and toyed with by Esmue, I lived my life just going back and forth between the Academy and home, and a week still passed by in that alone. The days were definitely peaceful, but the Gaendal party's return being delayed longer than expected was the sole flaw.
That didn't mean I was left in the dark, though. She sent letters along with her reports to the Guild. But the contents of those letters were far from pleasant.
[Temporarily conscripted under national emergency. Confirmed traces of Demonfolk. Ransacking the place like they're searching for something.]
It was technically called a letter because I was the recipient, but the content was practically a memo. I actually preferred it that way, but that last part nagged at me a little.
The first thought that flickered through my head when I heard it was the hypochondriac's worry, 'Could it be me?' The problem was, it wasn't a delusion—I'd pulled off two massive stunts that made such a rational suspicion entirely warranted.
Crossing the abandoned dungeon gate and setting off the Deluxe Bomber, and crossing the Imperial Academy gate and butchering those Demonfolk bastards. Even so, I doubted they'd spend manpower infiltrating an enemy nation just over that, but just in case, I asked the Guild to send a letter. I told them to contact me immediately if the thing they were looking for was a person.
Time kept flowing after that, and Seneran's prepared educational materials gradually dwindled, but the Gaendal party never returned.
Even as I spent time playing with Sheryl in between, occasionally went to see Ragnis, and devoted most of my hours to studying with my teacher, the days grew colder, and so much time passed that I didn't want to go outside without a thick coat and scarf anymore.
And as time passed, Seneran's letters, unlike the first ones, gradually became longer.
But the letters had merely gotten longer; the contents weren't particularly substantive. Most of them were complaints about her circumstances and regrets over having tied her own hands and feet through poor judgment. Still, the part saying she'd be stuck there until January, continuing to offer advice and conduct investigations, was useful information.
Thanks to that, I shook off my worries for them and focused solely on my studies. Because of that, my magic skills, which hadn't improved in years, got just a very, very tiny bit better.
So time kept flowing, and before I knew it, a whole year had passed and January arrived.
◈
The monumental day of January 1st, which I welcomed for the first time in the house arranged for me in the capital.
The first visitors to my home were an imperial delegation.
"It is an honor to meet the hero of the Empire."
They appeared, still using that burdensome extreme honorific, and handed over the armor Esmue had shown me. They set the armor down in my living room, stand and all, then handed me a wooden case containing the cloak to be worn with it and gave a brief explanation.
"The Itisel royal household will contact you soon, but the ceremony has been set for January 11th."
I deliberately ignored the deep regret swirling on the envoy's face as he mentioned the royal family would be sending someone, took the wooden case, and after seeing the envoys off, returned and approached Asilie, who was admiring my armor. I stood back for a moment and watched the amusing sight of even Tie, who'd maintained the odd character trait of 'expressionless maid,' examining it with interest, before Asilie spoke up first.
"When I first saw it, I just thought it was fairly good armor, but seeing the finishing touches, it's truly impressive. They must have put some real care into it, right?"
"Uh... since the 1st Princess did the work, wouldn't that be the case?"
I'd been about to casually call Esmue by name out of habit but realized Tie was present and hastily corrected myself. Fortunately, Tie seemed more focused on the visible armor than on my awkward change of words, and I let out a rare sigh of relief. She doesn't seem like an untrustworthy kid, but I guess it's right to be cautious for now.
"Well, a wandering knight parading around in armor that's dazzling and expensive for all to see isn't exactly a good look anyway."
The goal of most wandering knights is training. There are those like ascetics who travel the continent fulfilling knightly duties, but they are an extreme minority. The vast majority are those with no backing from a house and no exceptional skills, who barely managed to qualify as knights—so the process of trying to raise their own worth even a little inevitably leads to a life far removed from wealth.
To begin with, knights like that purchase their own armor for the investiture ceremony. If their house could afford to buy them armor, they wouldn't need to become a wandering knight in the first place.
As a result, they naturally end up living in poverty. So I, who had already left behind incomprehensibly great achievements—making people wonder why the hell I'd willingly become a wandering knight—would deserve to be stoned on the spot for being a bourgeois pretending at proletarian if I received my investiture in such ridiculously resplendent armor. I'd have to bow my head and say I'm damned sorry, to be precise.
"They said the ceremony is set for ten days from now. Looks like the investiture will be held together with it."
"Oh, right! It's January now! You've finally come of age! Congratulations, Eldi!"
Unlike Asilie, who jumped around celebrating as if it were a birthday, Tie stared at us with a face like she'd bitten into a bug. I shot her a glare, wondering what her problem was, and she, grasping what I wanted to say, barely fixed her expression and answered shortly.
"You really are fifteen, sir."
Ugh. Yeah, that's an understandable reaction, I guess. I deliberately ignored the way it kept sounding like an implication that I was prematurely aged on the inside, and forgave her.
I hadn't grown much taller—maybe my height had stopped increasing—but I'd already pulled forward what felt like all of my future height, so this body alone was sturdy enough to make most grown men give me due respect. Even height alone would have been enough, yet as Esmue and Asilie had complained, my muscles grew denser by the day. Sometimes, when I looked in the mirror, I wondered whether I had any right to be surprised by Yekaterina's baby face.
"Heh heh heh, time really does fly. Eldi, an adult."
For a moment, the last words Esmue had thrown at me flashed through my mind and I flinched slightly, but Asilie's gaze was warmer than ever. Come to think of it, she had raised me for half my life, so it was only natural she looked at me with pride.
"It really did fly by, except for the fact that it's been incredibly eventful lately. Even back when I was working for the Ogatorf family, time definitely felt like it flew by, but lately, it's been oddly dizzying."
I shook my head and voiced my disbelief, but Asilie's smile, which had been completely genuine just moments ago, stiffened just a tiny bit.
"I think that's Eldi's just deserts."
"......"
Mm. She never said it out loud, but Asilie must have been deeply distressed.
It was obvious I'd be committing plenty more sins in the future, so out of guilt I decided to play meek little Eldmia again for the first time in a while. At Asilie's insistent urging to try it on, I started putting the armor on before even eating breakfast. It fit me far more snugly than when I'd worn it in front of Esmue, and it was easy to put on. A knight's armor is normally made on the assumption that someone else will help them into it, so in that sense this could be called a very adventurer-like set of armor.
"To think they'd even put thought into putting it on and taking it off alone. How meticulous."
"You said it was armor personally bestowed by the 1st Princess? As expected of someone rumored to be the next emperor, her work seems thorough."
"Uh... yeah, I guess. As expected of the Imperial Princess, she's different."
Judging by her reaction, Asilie had unconsciously let her guard down around Tie too. Just as I finished securing the pauldrons, someone knocked on the door, and while Tie briefly stepped away, we quickly exchanged glances and whispered.
"You almost slipped up too, right, big sis?"
"I wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention. But do we really need to hide things from Tie?"
"She's a kid who volunteered to earn her own life, so I don't suspect her either. But separate from that, there's information that's safer for her not to know. I think it's better to wait and see for now."
"Hmm, you have a point."
The moment we finished our short exchange like conspirators and distanced ourselves again, Tie returned, holding a single letter in her hand.
"Eldmia. A letter from the Guild. I don't know the contents, but they seemed to be in quite a hurry, so it would be best if you read it now."
"The Guild? Is it Seneran?"
Up until now, I'd gone to pick them up myself, but for them to deliver it directly this early in the morning... As Tie said, it might be urgent, so I stopped putting on my armor for a moment, took the letter from her, and tore it open.
"...Fuck."
And I frowned, reaffirming the truth that ominous premonitions are never wrong. As if the long letters up until now had been a lie, the content written this time was extremely simple.
[Demonfolk. Searching for a person. What's a Little Eldmia? A sibling?]
It seemed the Demonfolk had marked me after all.