Four Bags and a Blade in the Dark
The moment she returned to the Annex Palace, Laniakea began to pack.
She pulled out everything that was hers and set aside what she could actually take. As she had expected, most of it would have to be left behind in the Imperial Palace. The clothes she had brought out of Priatra were still there, at least, so she would not be walking out with nothing but what she wore.
She did not own much. Before a few hours had passed, every last belonging was sorted. Nearly three years she had lived inside this lavish, abundant palace, and yet everything that could truly be called hers fit into four bags.
While Laniakea packed, Lucy stood beside her with a wilted face. Laniakea looked at her and managed a bitter smile. Keeping Lucy at her side had never been only because the Empress ordered it. Lucy liked her better than she liked the other imperial royals, as if she had come to this place from the very beginning for the sole purpose of protecting her.
But once Laniakea left, Lucy would have to remain in the Imperial Palace and serve some other royal.
"Your Highness. Me too. Run away."
"It isn't running away from home. It's leaving the palace... Lucy, you have to stay here."
Was it not the old treaty between the imperial house and the Lupin Tribe that had sent her here in the first place — Lucy, the warrior of greatest strength among them?
"Still. Together."
Lucy's lip jutted in a full pout, and Laniakea's own heart sat no easier for it. How much help had she had from her through the years in the Annex? Dead trees hauled out of the garden, dust beaten from the high walls, those long heavy curtains washed clean. Work that would have taken dozens of people, Lucy finished alone, brisk and sure. And it had not only been the heavy labor.
I wasn't lonely, because Lucy was here.
Even Laniakea, who liked being alone, sometimes felt the quiet press in. Whenever it did, she taught Lucy the imperial tongue. Lucy was no quick student, but she was always earnest, and so Laniakea gave the lessons everything she had. She had even taught her the palace etiquette she herself had not yet properly memorized, one rule at a time.
I studied the palace forms even harder, just so I could teach them to Lucy properly.
Because of that, Laniakea had ended up with manners so polished she had never meant to acquire them. She could not bear to be a teacher who shamed her pupil.
She's such a fine guard that she'll most likely become a maid to the Empress.
She only hoped the next empress would be someone who understood Lucy.
"That's enough for today. We ought to sleep. Lucy, you go back and rest too."
She swallowed her regret as she said it. Lucy must have been waiting, deep down, for her to say they would leave the palace together. At the order to go, her face sank even further, and she trudged out of the room.
With the lamp out and the covers drawn up, Laniakea lay thinking how much she ought to ask of Hyperion.
She had spent her days inside the palace, and yet she knew the prices of the world outside better than most. One of the few privileges of a prince's consort was leave to visit the imperial library often, and there she read books side by side with the regular reports. Those quarterly reports summarized the state affairs settled in council and, just as carefully, set down the condition of each region and the cost of living there. From them she had combed through which lands were famous for what, what climate each one kept, and where rent and prices ran cheap.
Somewhere near the Great Forest would be best. It won't be Priatra, but land beside a forest ought to hold some life in it, and the spirits will find it easier to appear.
Prices were low in that country, besides.
Once I have a house and the things to keep it... the way I'll live, in the end, is by farming, isn't it?
She thought of the little kitchen garden she had made in a corner of the Annex grounds, set on the boundary between the garden and the palace forest. It was so small it was almost embarrassing to call it a field. There she had planted the leftover tips of carrots and the roots of scallions, whatever remained after cooking.
They grew astonishingly well.
Of course, the Mole had helped.
"I may not look like much, but I'm a spirit of the earth! Growing delicious vegetables? That, I can do!"
He had puffed himself up so proudly as he said it. But the moment she tasted a dish made from what that patch had grown, Laniakea understood his confidence.
"Heavens, Your Highness. Where did you get these carrots? I've never tasted any so sweet."
"Just look at the size of these onions."
"And these herbs. Such a strong scent, and yet so gentle."
The two older maids who cooked their meals took one look at the vegetables from Laniakea's garden and could not hide their wonder. In no time they had turned them into a meal, and that night everyone in the Annex wore the same rapturous face and murmured the same thing.
"That was a truly magnificent meal..."
Afterward the maids watched her with eyes that hoped she would grow something new in the garden again.
If I go to the countryside, buy poor soil for cheap, and farm it with the Mole...
In her imagination, wide fields began to fill with every kind of crop. Carrots, cucumbers, eggplant, squash, potatoes, tomatoes. The vision did not stop at vegetables. Wheat and barley, and if she could get an orchard, apples and grapes as well. The corner of Laniakea's mouth lifted. Would she finally live the dream she had only imagined since she was small?
And later, if I can buy a larger house and more land, I'll be able to call the other spirits without worry.
She thought of them. Unlike the Mole, whose affinity with her ran high, the others took time before they could be summoned again. Even in the Annex she had never been able to call them freely, not with Lucy and the other servants about. But all of that would soon be a thing of the past.
Still... how much should I really ask for?
She remembered Hyperion saying he would respect her wishes. She remembered him saying, was she not his wife?
At least he doesn't seem to dislike me as much as I thought.
Then perhaps she could ask for a little — only a very little — more than she had planned. While she turned it over, her eyes were already sliding shut.
Blink.
Laniakea blinked, hard and fast.
The first thing she saw was darkness, not yet clear. She blinked again, and as her sight adjusted it traveled over the paintings and ornaments on the ceiling. Deep night. Her own familiar room. She ought to have felt at ease, and yet her heart was pounding violently.
Then she heard it — the soft click of a door handle turning. Someone was trying to come into her room.
It could not be Lucy. Lucy always knocked, hard, before she entered. And no one had any business slipping into a bedroom at an hour like this.
The last time something like this had happened...
"......!"
The memory yanked her upright, instinctive revulsion and fear snapping through her. She needed to scream as loudly as she could and call for help, but her voice would not come. While she staggered, the door opened all the way. At the same moment, something flashed.
A chill climbed her spine. The intruder held a blade. She did not need to ask what he meant to do with it.
Lucy. I have to call Lucy!
But the attacker closed the distance faster than she could open her mouth.
"Kh—!"
His hand clamped around her throat. Breath cut off in a choke, Laniakea flailed. At that feeble resistance he smiled, certain that at this rate he would finish what he had come to do — and in that instant her groping hand found the window and threw it open.
Cool wind poured in.
"Bae...psae..."
She forced the name out with everything she had.
Caught off guard, the attacker faltered. Suddenly the empty air blazed. Between Laniakea and the man, a single translucent crow tit appeared, scattering light. While the startled intruder stared blankly at the bird, it blinked — and shrieked at him.
"You fucking bastard!"
Having bellowed, the crow tit drove its dainty beak into the attacker's eyes without mercy.