The Grand Duchess (2)
The victory parade came to a close with the Grand Duke's declaration of triumph and a brief speech.
"What did you think?"
On the road into the city center, Lancelot asked the question with pride written all over his face.
"...It was impressive. More than I expected."
Watching those well-drilled cavalry and infantry — and beyond them, the countless knightly orders and mage battalions — was certainly a fascinating sight. Had it not been for that piercing gaze I'd felt during the procession, I might well have been as excited as Lancelot.
Maria saw me.
The look the Grand Duchess, Maria Theresia, had sent my way was no trick of the mind. That sensation of being seen through to the marrow of my bones was something I had never experienced in my entire life.
"A trait? Or maybe a talent?"
I let the words slip out under my breath as I trudged along behind Lancelot.
Picking me out so precisely from a crowd that size was no ordinary feat. If she had broken formation and done something impulsive? Something I couldn't easily walk away from would have unfolded, no question. The gulf between us was simply too vast. At this point in time, crossing paths with a powerful named character was something I wanted to avoid at all costs.
"...Frey? Frey!"
"Ah — what?"
"What are you thinking so hard about? We're in front of the mercenary guild. Don't you have business here?"
"...The mercenary guild?"
I snapped out of my thoughts and lifted my head. Looking around, I spotted a three-story building with a large signboard hanging between the Central District and the commercial quarter.
"Right. I'd forgotten about that."
I was a mercenary. I had taken part in the northern expedition as a member of the Oak Mercenary Corps, and as it happened, the war had just ended. That meant there was hazard pay waiting for me.
"I should collect it. Obviously."
The door creaked as I said it, and I stepped inside. An interior that looked for all the world like a medieval tavern greeted us.
"Welcome."
The guild was far quieter than I had expected. A handful of mercenaries who looked as if they had been rolling around battlefields for years sat at tables sipping afternoon drinks, and at the center of the room a bartender in a proper suit was polishing a glass with a white cloth.
"Frey of the Oak Mercenary Corps. I'd like to collect my participation pay from the northern expedition."
"Please wait a moment."
The bartender answered briefly and disappeared into the back. With a moment to spare, I slowly looked around the guild. This seemed to be Lancelot's first visit to a mercenary guild as well; his eyes were full of curiosity.
"Hey, kid. You survive the northern expedition?"
It was then that a mercenary drinking alone called out to me. He was a middle-aged man who looked as if he had weathered every hardship imaginable. A vicious scar ran long across his face, and his unkempt beard seemed to stand as a monument to everything he had endured.
"Lucky you. My comrades all died at the enemy's hands."
At a glance, it sounded like he was picking a fight for no reason. But I could hear the deep grief buried in his voice.
"Same here. I'm the only survivor from my company."
"...Goddamn it."
Just like him. The fact that I was the sole survivor of my mercenary company made the middle-aged man's face twist. He wiped his hand on his coat, came over, and held it out.
"Frane of the Ngannou Mercenary Corps. Meeting a fellow like myself... it hits different."
"Frey of the Oak Mercenary Corps. Good to meet you too."
"Huh. What the..."
Lancelot, who had been watching the whole exchange in silence, let out a bewildered sound. He seemed to find the sight of me and this middle-aged mercenary shaking hands on a first meeting thoroughly awkward, and his face said as much.
"And this one?"
It was only natural that the middle-aged mercenary would take an interest. Lancelot, who had been standing silently at my side, opened his mouth.
"Golden Lion Knights. Lancelot du Almans."
"A k-knight... I see. My apologies. I assumed you were a mercenary like this fellow, seeing as you were with him."
The middle-aged mercenary who had approached so casually returned to his seat with a frightened look and sat down. Watching this unfold, I couldn't help but tilt my head.
"Do mercenaries find knights that intimidating?"
"Isn't it obvious? Mercenaries have a high chance of becoming a knight's target. Could be over conflicting interests, could be because they've turned into vicious criminals. If that's how they react to a knight, a mercenary who runs into a noble practically has a seizure."
...Was that so? I had hated the mercenary route in the original so much that I never really knew.
At any rate, I found myself looking at Lancelot with fresh eyes. Come to think of it, this guy had asked me, the moment I first opened my eyes, whether I wasn't afraid of him. Now I finally understood what he had meant. He had found it strange that a mere mercenary would hold his head so high against a knight.
That was when the bartender returned, carrying a transparent glass plate.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Please place your palm on this glass plate. Once your identity is confirmed, we'll process the pay request."
A reasonably efficient process. I had been worried they might say something like, "We can't pay you without a mercenary badge."
I set my palm on it without ceremony. Transparent light seeped out in tiny grains along the small glass plate. So this was how they verified identity before disbursing pay.
"Identity confirmed. After a guild review, the payment will be finalized. It should take approximately two days."
I nodded silently at the bartender's additional explanation. This really was a world where magitech had developed in place of science. Being able to collect combat pay in a mere two days.
"If you'll be staying in Roben, shall I open a contact window for you?"
"...Ah! Please do that as well."
"Understood. If you visit in two to three days, I'll have good news for you."
A contact window. So they had those here too.
I gave a slight nod and left the mercenary guild. Midway out I felt the middle-aged mercenary's glance, but conscious of Lancelot, he merely watched us leave in silence.
"Frey. What's a contact window?"
The moment we stepped onto the street, Lancelot asked as if he couldn't hold it in any longer.
"Simply put... a system that lets people send and receive messages through guild branches. A lot of mercenaries are wanderers, after all."
"...Good call. If you're lucky, someone who remembers your past might reach out."
"I'd like that too."
I smiled bitterly and started walking. For now, I planned to head back to the inn. It was lunchtime, I was hungry, and I had something to take care of after the meal.
Time to get started.
The original reason I had come to Fortress City Roben was to find Lancelot's mother. Participating in the victory parade had just been a bonus.
It shouldn't take as long as I thought.
The mother Lancelot was so desperately searching for was supposedly the daughter of a Roben blacksmith. Which meant most of her relatives still lived in Roben. Finding her wouldn't be all that difficult, even in a fortress city of this scale.
First... I'll stop by there.
I already knew where I was going first. The grave on the coastal cliff. I intended to visit that place.
A peaceful afternoon. With the official ceremonies over, Fortress City Roben was buzzing with festival energy.
But this room was different. While the entire city stirred, the room's occupant sat quietly in a chair, gazing at the papers on the table.
"..."
After a long silence, the pen began to move — scratch, scratch. Its owner, Maria Theresia, was lost in deep thought. She had witnessed something rather interesting that afternoon.
A light so intense it was dazzling.
Maria had awakened a unique blessing in her childhood. She could see a person's light. It was a power no one else possessed — a gift that belonged to her alone.
She rose from her seat and clicked across the floor to the window, looking out at the scenery beyond. A gardener was diligently trimming the lawn of the estate.
White.
Maria confirmed the gardener's light at once and pressed her lips together. What he possessed was a single thread of white light. An utterly ordinary color.
That man, though...
The corner of Maria's expressionless mouth lifted, just slightly, almost imperceptibly. Even that much would have made her family jump out of their skins, but fortunately, she was alone in this room.
Maria Theresia's clear eyes drifted back to the recent past.
Cheering crowds. The Grand Duke's army advancing with imposing bearing. In the midst of it all, Maria Theresia felt bored. White here, white there. Occasionally a gold would appear, but she would lose interest just as quickly. Utterly ordinary. They had been lucky enough to be born with gold, but they didn't look like anyone who would particularly distinguish themselves.
Maria's eyes flew wide open just as the victory march was drawing to a close.
"...?"
From atop a white horse whose very name she couldn't be bothered to know, Maria witnessed a shocking sight.
A flash — then another.
Light...
Radiance exploding from some unidentified someone filled her vision to the brim. So overwhelming she almost felt buried in it — and the owner of that wondrous light was a young man who looked as if he had only just come of age.
"...Oh my?"
The man was looking at her.
Like the saying that when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you. The man was seeing through something that belonged to Maria Theresia.
In an instant, the man's face went pale. He had seen it too. Just as she had — the fact that Maria was a being different from others from the very moment of her birth.
"Ah..."
From atop the procession, Maria let out a sigh that didn't suit her at all. The light... the light was receding. The first iridescent, intoxicating feast of light she had ever encountered in her life was leaving her behind.
But it didn't matter. She would simply meet him again.
She had both the power and the authority to make it so. And she wanted to have a deep conversation with him. She was curious what kind of person he was. It wasn't as if she had fallen in love at first sight... or anything of the sort. It was simply that a fierce curiosity had thrown her reason into disarray.
The window of the Grand Duke's residence opened smoothly. And she threw herself out of it.