Edward's Circumstances
Sisilia continued wandering from village to village after that, helping people wherever she went.
"Adventurers can use magic, right? We need another well, but we don't know where to dig."
In villages that needed wells, she made them one. By having Beatrice do it.
Sisilia watched Beatrice dig into the earth with a trowel, her eyes welling up, and thought, This is real magic.
"The mountain lord's been howling nonstop, and we've been struggling to get food for months now. Think you folks could help?"
The mountain lord turned out to be a bearwolf monster. Just a big gray bear.
Sisilia promptly challenged it to a boxing match and claimed victory.
"...You're probably the only one who's ever suplexed a bearwolf to instant death, Lady Sisilia."
The forest got a bit trashed in the process, but no one could blame her when she came back shouldering a house-sized bearwolf.
"Good girl. Lady Sisilia."
Beatrice patted her with a look of fresh admiration.
"You never pass by anyone in trouble. You're so kind, Lady Sisilia."
Even without Chiron's request to praise her properly for good deeds, this deserved it.
Sisilia pestered people in every village she visited, digging into their problems and solving them.
"In times like these, no one upholds chivalry like you do, Lady Sisilia."
In truth, Sisilia's actions were straight out of the knightly code.
Protect the weak.
Rescue those in distress.
But Beatrice, who had lived in a rural territory before heading to the capital, knew better. Knights like that were rare as hen's teeth.
Most knights were just power-drunk bullies who treated people like dirt.
She'd heard the Windsor Knights were different, but from the perspective of folks in peaceful lands, they were mythical.
So even if Sisilia was just doing the obvious, it wasn't obvious at all.
"Betty. We're adventurers, not knights. Mind the setting."
"......"
Of course, her absurd side was still very much intact.
Beatrice was thoroughly enjoying this journey with Sisilia.
"Where to today?"
Because Sisilia was always so bright.
Her eyes sparkled at everything she saw, and she found joy in the smallest things.
If purity had a poster child, it'd be Sisilia.
Beatrice loved that innocence and wanted to protect it as long as possible.
But that thought didn't last.
"Betty. Battle stations. Demon incursion."
A small territory burned before them. People screamed in agony, and Sisilia scanned the surroundings with sharp eyes, hunting for demon traces.
Nothing. Why? Nothing's registering.
Beatrice pulled Sisilia's head into her chest.
She didn't want her to see this.
With sad eyes, she said, "Lady Sisilia. There are no demons here."
"What're you talking about?"
Sisilia wriggled free from Beatrice's arms. Cute as she was, blocking her view in combat?
She'd scold Beatrice good once this was over, Sisilia thought, surveying the area.
"This is destruction, Betty. Pure intent to harm humans. Has to be demons."
Or maybe brainwashed by demons. Sisilia ran through possibilities—but missed one entirely.
"...This is a territorial war, Lady Sisilia."
A genius.
Sisilia had heard the word since childhood, her insight transcending mortal limits beyond mere strength.
So she wouldn't know. The thoughts of fools, that is.
"Just humans doing this to other humans."
"...No way it's territorial war. Destroying your own future land is straight-up self-sabotage."
"P-Please, spare me!"
Then a soldier dragged out a woman by her hair, hefting a massive club.
Sisilia spotted them and bolted, sword flashing.
"Huh? What just whooshed by?"
The soldier blinked, looking around.
Whoosh!
Compressed wind snuffed out the flames raging across the entire village.
"!"
The soldier's eyes widened as he glanced sideways.
A silver-haired girl in a white dress held her sword to his throat.
"Look at me."
Her voice was soft and serene. Too much so for a battlefield.
The soldier slowly turned his head.
Sisilia's silver-blue eyes pierced straight to his soul.
"Kneel."
"......"
She was just a little girl. No matter how you sliced it.
But the soldier felt an irresistible force in her voice.
He dropped his club, knelt, hands up.
Sisilia lifted his chin with her sword's flat.
She examined him closely, then frowned.
"...Not brainwashed."
No demonic magic on him.
"What were you planning with this woman?"
"I-I was gonna take her somewhere safe."
"I see."
Sisilia smiled in relief.
"Then why's the village burning? Your affiliation and mission?"
"......As a soldier under Baron Olbans of the Lancaster faction, I was carrying out orders to retaliate against this territory that dared defy Lancaster."
The soldier forced a grin.
Battlefield instincts. Survived enough scraps to know: one wrong word here, and you're dead.
A girl in spotless white wandering a warzone? Unreal.
"Orders are orders, but it got too brutal, so I was just trying to save who I could."
"Really?"
"Swear on the goddess. True story."
Lies, of course. He'd planned to drag her off as loot, have his fun, then kill her.
"War's a nightmare, right? Can't disobey orders, though."
"......Defying the lord means death for three generations."
Sisilia nodded slowly, sheathed her sword.
Then blinked and jerked her head.
The soldier bolted up, shot her a glare, and ran.
"Lady Sisilia."
Beatrice, naturally, had no intention of letting him go.
Obvious lie to anyone.
She was about to say so when—
"Betty."
Sisilia watched the fleeing soldier, tone utterly flat.
"Yes."
"You're right. Never imagined idiots torching their own prize."
Territorial war.
Nobles fighting over land for profit.
She knew the concept—medieval life, knightly station. She'd brushed close before.
But witnessing it firsthand? First time.
Windsor Knights weren't to intervene in territorial wars. Chiron's orders: stay far away.
One side getting Windsor's backing meant instant win.
Tempting as it was, allowing it would unleash mad nobles—no telling what they'd do.
So intervention was strictly illegal. The one unbreakable taboo for unrestricted Windsors.
"Makes sense you blocked my view, Betty. Didn't want me seeing this."
"......Yes. Sorry. If I'd known Olbans territory was like this, I'd have turned back somehow."
"Your call? Or orders?"
Beatrice hesitated, then murmured,
"......Both."
Chiron's request.
Sisilia sighed.
Her adjutant taking orders from someone else? Annoying, but—understandable.
Adult circumstances.
Nothing for a minor like her to fret over.
Chiron had always wanted her focused solely on demons.
Didn't want his sweet, pretty, innocent daughter tainted by this grim world.
"Betty, keep this from Dad, okay?"
Definitely beyond her grasp.
Didn't wanna grasp it.
But she knew what to do.
"Never once hesitated to kill when killing was needed."
Sisilia beheaded the fleeing soldier without a second thought.
The Capital. A tavern in Terezia, now an unfamiliar name: the Imperial Capital.
"Jerryway. Another round."
A handsome man who made women blush and men grind their teeth.
Edward.
Freshly promoted from prince to imperial heir, he was skyrocketing his prestige.
Noble blood, unprecedented strength for his thirties—Windsor captain material.
And drop-dead gorgeous.
Perfect manners too.
Yet the empire's top bachelor, maybe Liannen's most eligible, was pounding liquor midday.
"Seen you drink before, but not like this. And on duty."
Jerryway slid over whiskey with rotten fish eyes.
"Captain, if Sisilia worries you that much, why not go with her?"
All over one woman.
"......You think I'm trash too, Jerryway? Knew the east was hell, still sent that kid—like a little sister."
Edward drowned in guilt over dumping Sisilia in the eastern sewer.
I don't even know anymore.
He'd wanted this.
......So why was every day torture now?
"......Forgive the side gig during knight hours, and I'll spill."
"Spill."
"Sisilia won't bat an eye. 'War's bad' or some chill crap while smashing noble egos."
Jerryway couldn't fathom Edward's angst.
Sending her himself, then whining? Whatever.
Sisilia despair over ugly nobles? Please.
"Nah. She doesn't get sad over grim stuff. No heart."
Jerryway said with conviction.
Sisilia had no soul. Common knowledge.
"......You know nothing. She acts tough, but grieves death more than anyone."
"Faking it. Probably swooning over her own 'grief.'"
Edward glared coldly.
"What do you know about her?"
"......Captain, too much booze."
Edward stood, unaware why he was mad.
"Mistake consulting you. Forget I said anything."
"......"
Jerryway gawked at his retreating back, then sighed.
How was the order full of weirdos? Only normal one here was him.
"J-Jerryway, sir."
A noble lady approached, urgent.
"Edward just mentioned a woman, right? Who?"
"......Hey now. Even a rotten knight like me—bartending days, playing hooky—wouldn't sell out a comrade. Let alone the captain."
He flashed four fingers.
"I, Jerryway, am a Windsor with business ethics."
"Four gold? Here."
Jerryway snatched the pouch lightning-fast, spilled.
"Captain had to set aside personal feelings. Sent Vice-Captain Sisilia east. As you saw, he's pickling daily."
"Eek! Grand Duchess Sisilia to those barbarians?!"
"The east? Hell for refined Sisilia..."
"Edward's too cruel!"
Noble ladies clustered, eyes sparkling.
Jerryway, basking in unaccustomed attention, embellished tenfold.
"Every day, Captain consults me on Sisilia. Driving me nuts."
"W-Wait. So..."
"Edward and... Sisilia."
"A-Are they dating?!"
"What's their deal?!"
"Ahem... That's tricky."
Jerryway averted eyes. Tiny conscience pang.
"Extra here!"
"Money's no object!"
"Cliffhanger's inhuman!"
Eh, probably fine, he thought.
"One thing's sure: Sisilia packs Edward's lunches."
"Heeeek—"
Guilty!
Ladies swooned over the epic romance.
From that day, rumors of Sisilia and Edward's torrid affair swept Terezia.