A Fine Day
Godin's affair was settled without much fuss.
He fled in a frantic scramble — and left a fat coin purse behind for good measure.
Antonio opened the pouch and let out a strangled gasp.
"Are the people who run the main castle always this loaded?"
"That's because he's embezzled more than his fair share."
The Vice Guildmaster frowned.
"Are we even allowed to take money like this?"
"It's not as though we accepted it as payment."
Godin, of course, would assume he had bought our silence about his collusion. Meanwhile, I was hard at work drafting a formal denunciation. It would reach the proper hands under someone else's name, not mine.
And Godin had left something else behind in his panicked flight.
"...I, well. Thank you. For saving me."
The old blacksmith. Leaving him behind had been my condition.
I'm the Saintess. Having someone else get hauled off in my place doesn't sit right with me.
Godin had probably figured that since Gaspar wanted the Saintess brought in, any warm body who vaguely fit the bill would do — a convenient way to stay in the good graces of the other princes and the Teressa Church. He must have told himself that Gaspar wouldn't actually kill him for it.
He would have died.
That brat Gaspar would have taken one look at the old man and taken Godin's head on the spot. The poor blacksmith might not have survived either. That was why I had told them to leave him.
Antonio stared at the old man, astonished.
"So the old geezer does know how to say thank you? And here I thought all he knew how to do was run scams."
"...I received help. A word of thanks is the least I can offer."
The old man cleared his throat and slid a sheet of paper toward me. I glanced down. The word Pledge was written across the top.
I hereby swear to grant one request of the bearer's choosing.
Whatever is desired — I shall fulfill it, once.
"You don't have to do this."
He scratched at his neck.
"This is all I have to give. Please take it."
Then, looking thoroughly embarrassed, he hurried off.
I blinked down at the pledge. The Vice Guildmaster gave a quiet chuckle.
"Put it away. It will surely be of use."
"Sir?"
"There isn't a blacksmith in the capital who can match him. Whatever you need, he will forge you something extraordinary."
Well, in that case. I tucked the pledge away with care.
"Will you be departing for the main castle tomorrow?"
I nodded at the Vice Guildmaster's question. The other pages were already at Esgard Main Castle. It only made sense to summon them before the princes arrived. I had been assigned to a later departure by Luciarno's order.
"We should go before it gets any later."
I had finished every last preparation before the appointment papers even arrived. All that remained was the journey to Esgard Main Castle.
I clenched both fists.
"I'll do my best."
"I believe in you."
The Vice Guildmaster smiled, gentle and warm.
And so, the following morning, I climbed into a carriage flying the banner of San Miguel, bound for Esgard.
...Together with the Guildmaster.
"..."
"..."
The carriage was silent. The Guildmaster gazed quietly out the window, and I sat there fidgeting, stealing glances at his face.
I understood well enough why he was going to Esgard. The moment I carve out an opening with the Duke, he'll want to meet him at once. Messages traveling back and forth all the way to San Miguel would be far too easy for someone to notice — and far too easy for someone to find suspicious.
Still. I had not expected to share a carriage with him.
I was turning that over, still watching him from the corner of my eye, when he spoke. His gaze never left the window.
"You don't ask anything, do you."
I flinched and lifted my head.
"Sir?"
His eyes turned to me.
"Why I took you in as my ward instead of simply buying a person for the mission. Why I am going to such lengths to meet the Duke in secret."
"Ah... taking me in as your ward was to prevent a betrayal, wasn't it?"
"And."
And why, he meant, was I not curious about his need to meet the Duke in secret.
He was testing me. A savage killing intent gathered in those red eyes — the kind of pressure that would freeze anyone's face solid. But unlike before, I merely blinked.
Is it strange to do the work without asking why?
Of course, I had played the game. I knew he was a child born without even the Duke's knowledge. But still.
"Do I need to be curious?"
"...What?"
"You gave me work when I showed up out of nowhere, Guildmaster. You saved me when I was in danger."
"..."
"And I like Irregular. I want to stay."
"..."
"So even if there isn't a reason — I'll do anything you ask of me."
Yes. I would have done it even if I hadn't known. I had nowhere else to go.
To everyone else, Irregular was nothing more and nothing less than a pack of vicious killers. To me, they were a campfire I had barely managed to find in a cold that cut to the bone. They told me to take care when I went out. They greeted me in the morning. They spoke to me kindly.
"..."
The Guildmaster looked at me in silence. He held that gaze for a long while, and then, at last, turned his eyes back to the window.
"It's a fine day."
"...!"
He was making conversation. So I wouldn't feel awkward.
I gave a sheepish little laugh.
"It is, isn't it? The wind feels wonderful."
"...It does."
"I hear cabbage is having a bumper year. Once the harvest comes in, I'll pick out some good ones and make you braised napa cabbage. It'll be delicious."
"Whatever you make will taste good, I'm sure."
"I'm good at sewing, too."
"I've never once thought there was something you couldn't do."
His answers were short, but he answered. I had never had a conversation like this with my own father, and the fact that he replied at all made me so happy I chattered the whole way.
And yet.
Hm?
He was resting his chin on his hand, so I couldn't see his mouth — but I thought, just for a moment, that the corner of his lips had lifted.
It was probably my imagination. Still, I found myself hoping it wasn't.
The carriage drew up before the castle gates. I stepped down and looked up at the Guildmaster.
"I'll work hard."
"Go on, then."
That was our farewell. He left to join Irregular's elites already stationed at Esgard, and I turned toward the gates.
"Yustea of San Miguel."
At last, I was entering Esgard Castle. I presented my page appointment papers and San Miguel identity plaque at the gate and was admitted.
A young maid had been waiting, and she led me inside — to a residence hall attached to the castle grounds.
So this is where the pages stay.
"The rooms are two to a chamber. Your ceremonial dress and other issued items have been prepared inside."
With that, the maid vanished. I stepped into the room.
And found it full of girls already dressed in what appeared to be the pages' ceremonial gowns.
Didn't she say two to a room?
There were people everywhere. The girls did not so much as glance at me as I entered. They went right on talking among themselves.
"It's nothing like what I imagined."
"I know. We don't even get a moment to speak with the princes privately. We've tried to offer them a tour of Esgard, but they hardly spare us the time."
"And on top of that, we've got some stone that just rolled in. If she were from a house of merit, maybe. But San Miguel? How gauche."
I was, apparently, deeply unpopular.
The girls selected as pages would all be young ladies from Esgard's prominent houses. I had come from San Miguel — the most backward territory in all of Esgard. And I became a page without even sitting the examination. Of course they're furious.
Of course, I had just brokered an alliance between the Second and Fourth Princes — a feat considerably harder than any page examination. But from where they stood, I was nothing but a stone that had rolled in off the street.
Then the one girl who had been sitting quietly opened her mouth.
"Please don't be like that."
She was a girl of real poise — her posture impeccable, her bearing refined. The others immediately started grumbling.
"Miss Ayabel, you're far too kind. That's your problem."
Ayabel?
I knew who she was the moment I heard the name.
Ayabel Balboa. Granddaughter of Viscount Balboa, one of Esgard's Three Elders. A girl blessed with both beauty and pedigree — the envy of every girl her age.
So that's Ayabel.
She rose and came toward me.
"It's a pleasure. I'm Ayabel."
"Hello."
"I'll be sharing a room with Miss Yustea. The others came by so I wouldn't be lonely. Everyone, say hello."
Ayabel turned to look at them, but the girls kept their mouths shut, their faces openly unpleasant. Ayabel sighed.
"Ladies."
When she pressed them, one of the girls pulled a sour face.
"You don't need to be so warm toward a girl like that."
"We're all pages here. It's better if we get along. And more than that..."
Ayabel turned back to me with a bright little smile.
"You were the eldest daughter of House Andres, weren't you?"
"..."
"Oh, please don't take offense. I only happened to hear it."
The girls flinched at Ayabel's words.
"Andres?"
"That Yustea?"
A few of them looked stunned. The rest twisted their faces in sudden disgust.
"Unbelievable!"
They looked at me as if they could not fathom how something as wretched as I was had rolled into Esgard. The others' expressions turned even uglier, and they glared daggers at me. Ayabel, however, soothed them in a tone of mild distress.
"Rumors are only rumors."
"If it were only a rumor, would her family have thrown her out?"
"Even so, she's a colleague now. And if she was a young lady of such a great house, there must be a great deal we could learn from her."
"But think about it. Everyone knows the Second Prince and Yustea Andres were bitter enemies. So what do you think it means that he summoned her anyway? He's mocking her for hitting rock bottom."
"His Highness may have taken pity on Miss Yustea, given their history, and offered her a chance."
Even that did nothing. The girls had not the slightest interest in associating with me. A moment later they surged to their feet and swept out of the room without a backward glance.
That left only me and my roommate, Ayabel. She sighed.
"I know that was unpleasant, but please understand. I want to get along with you, Miss Yustea."
Ayabel smiled and held out her hand.
"Let's get along, shall we?"
"I'd like that."
I took her hand and shook it.
A page's duties were not limited to hovering at a prince's side. There was inspecting his destinations in advance. Monitoring his condition. Accompanying him through his schedule. Responding to his requests. Preparing teatime. And so on.
And the pages of Esgard found all of it...
"That's what the servants are for."
"This is ridiculous. Why should I have to prepare tea?"
...utterly beneath them.
The maid assigned to assist the pages was breaking into a cold sweat.
"I can't prepare the tea unless you specify the leaves, miss..."
"Just prepare whatever's in the best condition."
The maid looked helpless in the face of that icy dismissal. I stepped toward her.
"I'll go."
Her face lit up in an instant. The other pages, for their part, went right on fussing over their appearances as if none of it had anything to do with them.
And so, guided by the maid, I arrived at a certain room. The moment I stepped through the door, I stopped and stared.
It appeared to be a room devoted entirely to the preparation of tea — and the scale of it was staggering. Cabinets packed with tea leaves lined the walls, so tall you needed a ladder to reach the top. They even seemed to process the leaves themselves, to draw out the finest flavor and aroma. There was a rolling frame for bruising dried leaves to oxidize them, and a fermentation bed besides.
Incredible.
It rivaled the imperial palace... no. In variety of teas alone, it surpassed even the palace. The palace used only leaves certified by Royal Warrant. Here, they even kept the teas that commoners drank.
Then maybe...
I climbed the ladder at once. The maid looked startled.
"Please, allow me—"
"It's all right. I want to look at the leaves myself."
I scanned the cabinets with a hawk's eye. And at last, I found it. After digging through the shelves for some time, I pulled out exactly what I had been searching for.
"We'll serve this one today."
"M-my lady, that tea hasn't finished processing yet."
"It's fine."
The maid looked troubled, but she did not argue further. I set to work with care. Preparing the leaves alone took a long time, and I was just as particular in choosing the tea set. Watching me, the maid murmured before she could stop herself.
"You're incredible..."
"Hm?"
"Forgive me. I've never seen a page actually prepare the tea herself."
"When I'm not around, the other pages don't do this?"
The maid's expression turned uncomfortable.
So nobody did it.
They had dumped the whole thing on the staff, then.
"We would prepare the tea, and they would come by to hear the description, then leave."
Because explaining the tea was a chance to leave an impression on a prince. Girls who didn't know any better might well think preparing tea was a chore. But the thing imperial palace maids fussed over most was their master's teatime. A master drank tea two or three times a day — which made a maid who brewed well precious.
I was thinking that as I arranged the prepared teaware on the tray when—
The door burst open, and the pages poured in.
"If you're finished, bring the tray."
They snatched up the tray I had prepared without a moment's hesitation. And then—
"Don't you dare show off in front of the princes just because you prepared it. The tea explanation is Miss Ayabel's job."
Keep your mouth shut and stand quietly in the back. That was the message.
"I think I should be the one to explain this tea."
The pages let out incredulous little laughs.
"Look how full of herself she's gotten, riding on Prince Luciarno's favor."
"I told you we shouldn't have given her a chance to speak."
Ayabel let out a small sigh.
"I understand wanting to explain a tea you prepared yourself. But we finished dividing our roles before you arrived, Miss Yustea."
"..."
"It's a pity we couldn't hear your opinion, but I hope you'll understand."
"..."
"If you had become a page through the proper channels, this wouldn't have been an issue."
She was taking care to point out that I had arrived without sitting the examination. Then Ayabel looked at the maid who had prepared the tea with me.
"What tea did you prepare?"
"Moonlight, miss."
Another page cut in at once.
"Moonlight? That's a tea commoners drink."
The pages looked utterly appalled. One of them bristled.
"Prepare Ceylon again, right now—"
"Moonlight is excellent for recovering from fatigue."
That was Ayabel. She looked at me.
"They'll have had more than enough Ceylon and Darjeeling at the palace, so a commoner's tea should prove rather novel. And since it's grown only in the north, serving it here at Esgard carries a meaning all its own."
I nodded, and Ayabel smiled brightly.
"I'll explain the tea properly, so don't you worry."
Then she swept out with the other pages. The maid glanced at me — a look that asked if I was all right.
Well. It doesn't matter.
I followed after them.
Today's teatime was not for the princes alone. Esgard's vassals had conveyed their wish to join them.
Before the vassals arrived, Ain sighed.
"Why do they have to cling to us even during our rest?"
"It will be the Duchess's doing."
"The Duchess?"
"She wants us to throw our weight behind the succession."
The Duke and Duchess's only son was past thirty and still had not been named heir.
"The Duchess, leaning on the imperial family? That's a blow to her pride. She must be desperate."
The Duchess was a daughter of the previous emperor — younger sister to the current Emperor Augusto. She had been the favored imperial princess who monopolized the late emperor's affection, and there had been a time when she wielded more influence than anyone in the entire imperial family.
Ain let out an irritated sigh. Nothing good has come of this trip to Esgard.
The Duchess was a nuisance. He had attached Tracking Orbs to Luciarno's people, and still the Saintess had not shown so much as the tip of her nose. The one silver lining was that Gaspar had been running around from dawn until midnight hunting for her, and so at least he was not being a pest.
He was turning that over when Esgard's vassals arrived.
"We are honored to have been invited to tea."
They were all vassals of standing within Esgard. And they had scarcely been seated when another knock sounded at the door.
"The tea, Your Highnesses."
The pages. They entered with the tray and offered their respects. The platinum-blonde girl at the front smiled brightly.
"Today's tea is Moonlight."
"Moonlight?"
A vassal echoed the name as if to ask why on earth they had prepared such a thing. The platinum-blonde girl answered with perfect courtesy.
"It has not received a Royal Warrant, but it is excellent for recovering from fatigue. More than that, the leaves are flowers that bloom in the northern mountains, enduring the cold — and I judged that a perfect match for the indomitable spirit of Esgard."
The vassals looked at Ayabel with expressions of fond approval.