A Distant Distance
The distance from the Academy to the manor was considerable, so the conversation that passed between them ran neither too short nor too long.
What had they been doing, how much had they trained, what was Lucerne like… They never quite managed the deeper things, yet they shared enough to cover a broad, shallow stretch of news.
"Oppa. Did you read all my letters?"
"Of course."
"Really? Then writing them so carefully was worth it!"
"…Did you read mine too?"
"Obviously. I read every one of yours. And I didn't throw them away afterward, either."
People said that when physical distance grew, the distance of the heart followed—but that worry proved groundless. Face to face, after only a few turns of conversation, topics sprang up without end.
Listening to his chattering younger siblings, Shiron glanced toward the window.
Aren't we a little late?
From the main gate of the manor onward, people stood in ranks. As always, passing down a path where hundreds bowed their heads as one made a man feel he had become someone special.
Alighting from the carriage, Shiron bowed.
"I hope you have been well, Lady Eldrina."
"You look as though you think all this fuss is pointless."
"…Not at all."
As expected, the lavish welcome had been arranged by Eldrina, mistress of the house. Though he had returned to the estate, he had never stopped at the main building, and so it had been five years since Shiron last saw her.
They look so much alike.
Shiron glanced at Siriel clinging tight to his side, then looked forward again.
"Pay it no mind."
At Shiron's inability to find a reply, Eldrina smiled gently.
"It would hardly look proper to slight the one who is to lead the family hereafter."
"The family… you say?"
Shiron narrowed his eyes. For some reason, the word "family" from Eldrina's lips left him faintly uneasy.
Feigning ignorance at this late hour, are we?
Eldrina covered her mouth with her fan and regarded Shiron and the girls stuck close beside him. Siriel, Shiron, Lucia… Not an ideal picture, but not a bad one either.
"Besides, you share a little of the blame yourself, don't you? You never sent word when you arrived or when you left. I thought this much would be acceptable."
"I apologize for the discourtesy."
Shiron gave a dry chuckle and bowed his head.
Just then, words reached his ears that he could not help but doubt.
"Mother. Shall we go inside soon? The day is growing warm."
"Oh dear, I've kept you out here far too long."
"…"
Shiron's eyes went wide. The speaker was not Siriel.
That awkward title—"Mother"—had come from Lucia's lips, and Eldrina found nothing strange about it.
"You must be tired, so go on in. Hmm… nothing grand, but let's share dinner at least."
"Yes."
"Oppa. See you later."
Shiron waved back at Siriel as she turned away.
On the path toward the annex.
"Since when?"
Shiron tapped Lucia's shoulder as they walked side by side. He had many questions, but first he wanted to clear the tightness circling in his head.
"Since when what?"
"Since when did you start calling Great Aunt just 'Mother'?"
"Ah…"
Lucia chewed her lip.
"Mother—Lady Eldrina—asked me to call her that first. Before I entered the Academy. She said not having parents could cause unnecessary trouble, and she brought it up herself."
"Then do you call Great Uncle 'Father' too?"
"…No. Our father is still alive."
Even if I've only seen his face once.
Lucia kicked a pebble and muttered.
"Lady Eldrina. She's a better person than I expected."
"…"
"I—I'm grateful to Lady Eldrina. She treats me like a real daughter. Yes, you could say I've received a great deal of kindness from her."
"…I wasn't going to criticize you."
"Then what?"
Shiron smirked at Lucia looking up at him.
"I was just proud of you for adapting so well without isolating yourself."
"What… I'm not a child."
Lucia whipped her head away and strode ahead. Chatting as they walked, they reached the annex before they knew it.
Since she needed to change out of her uniform for the banquet at the main house, Lucia hurried inside.
"Ah."
Seira?
When she opened the door, Lucia froze. A familiar face—not the maid who always attended her, but some elf nun.
Why the hell is this bitch still at our house?
"…Hello."
Unsure how to treat her, Lucia decided to bow politely to Seira.
Her true identity…
Lucia was conscious of Shiron following behind.
Not now.
She planned to reveal herself as a reincarnator someday, but that day was absolutely not today. With Yura it might have been different, but expecting a moving reunion with Seira was unrealistic.
"What a well-mannered child. How sweet."
Seira, knowing nothing, patted the head of the bowing Lucia.
…What is this.
Suddenly treated like a kid, Lucia ground her teeth. Whatever little desire she'd had to catch up on how they'd been faded away.
In her previous life Lucia had been Seira's comrade, but she had treated her as a comrade—not as a close friend.
Seira and Kylie had been like oil and water.
There had always been a climate of bad blood between mages and swordsmen in those days, and their personalities… thinking about it herself, both of them seemed to have a few screws loose. Without Yura's mediation, they would have met as enemies rather than becoming comrades…
I don't get it.
She had no idea why Seira Romere was in this annex, sticking to Shiron's side, so Lucia stopped herself from batting away the hand on her head.
"But who are you? Why are you here?"
"I'm Seira Romere. The little priest's reliable comrade and a great mage. We're comrades, so living together is only natural, isn't it?"
"Aha…?"
She had no idea what that nonsense was supposed to mean, but Lucia decided to nod for now. She wanted to ask Shiron where he'd been wandering for five years to pick up this creature.
"Then why are you wearing a nun's habit? You're a mage."
"It's comfortable."
Seira fluttered the hem of the habit and beamed.
"Look. The ventilation's great and it's easy to move in. Not too hot in summer, and decent enough in winter. And… if I'm going to stick with Shiron the priest, isn't it better to go around dressed as a nun?"
"When did you wake up? I thought you'd keep sleeping."
Shiron approached and cut in.
"How could I keep sleeping?"
Seira shrugged.
"I spent some time persuading the demons who came to clean your room, making them understand again that I'm not an enemy, dealing with all that hassle."
He'd given Encia and Ophelia a heads-up, but the curse must have caused a little friction.
Still, being treated as a strange intruder was familiar to Seira, so handling it wasn't difficult.
Over the past five hundred years she had often faced the experience of carefully built relationships crumbling.
Even without using mind-interference magic, when a plan existed and the board was set, Seira could skillfully deploy her social skills. If she hadn't been good at building new relationships with new people, she wouldn't have survived the last five hundred years.
They're closer than I am?
Watching the two converse so freely, Lucia felt complicated. Seira seemed closer to Shiron than to Kylie, and Shiron seemed closer to Seira than to Lucia.
Imperial Northern Region, Macal Mountains
Amid the rugged range that divided the world into the Demon Realm and everywhere else stood a remote castle.
In the frozen corridor of Dawn Castle, Yuma bowed her head to the man who had suddenly appeared.
"You've arrived."
"Yes."
Glen rubbed his forearms and exhaled.
"It's cold."
"There's no need to light a fire in a castle no one lives in. You've been outside for so long, after all."
"Have I?"
"Yes. It's been two years since your last return."
Yuma chuckled softly and approached Glen. She draped a pre-prepared snow-leopard-patterned coat around the man's shoulders.
"That's better."
Yuma fastened the front of the coat as she spoke.
"Still, your return is sooner than expected. The coming-of-age ceremony is still several months away, isn't it?"
"Do you wish I wouldn't return to the castle?"
"You've always hated returning so much, after all."
"I simply have some free time now."
Glen exhaled a white breath.
"One of the Apostle seats has vanished."
"…I see."
"You're not surprised. You don't even ask further."
"It was expected."
Yuma turned her gaze out the window. Night made it hard to see, but beyond the endless snowy mountains in the direction she looked was Shiron.
Glen saw who Yuma was thinking of now.
"You opposed bringing Irina in so strongly."
Irina was Glen's deceased wife. Tears welled in Yuma's eyes.
"My lady was far too frail. She was not enough to live in this barren place. Judging from much experience, giving her a failing grade was only natural at the time."
Irina had barely ever left her bed. The woman who coughed every day with the sound of wind leaking through cracks died without leaving more than a single heir.
The family head, Glen, never took another wife after Irina's death. Instead he had picked up some girl.
A girl with red hair exactly like his, who carried a different scent.
"Yuma."
Glen read the suspicion lingering in Yuma's eyes.
"Lucia is my child."
"…Who said otherwise?"
"Right. As you know, she proved it herself by passing the succession ceremony."
Glen held back the sigh of relief that rose in him. But he could not stop a few beads of sweat from rolling down his back. Yuma closed her eyes and bowed her head.
"It hardly matters. Lately I've been thinking the succession ceremony isn't of much help. I was even considering trying a somewhat new approach for the coming-of-age ceremony as well."
Perhaps this would be the last coming-of-age ceremony…
Thinking of Shiron, Yuma clutched at her tightening chest.