Family
“The Guardian of Dawn Castle greets the Family Head.”
Yuma of the Single Horn lifted the hem of her skirt slightly and offered a formal bow.
Strong. Noble. Beautiful.
Three words were more than enough to describe the woman named Yuma.
“I’ve been seeing you more often these days.”
The number of people before whom a woman like Yuma would bow could be counted on one hand. The man, Glenn Prien, addressed her with natural, unthinking familiarity. His manner made it perfectly clear who stood above and who stood below.
Yet for someone so far above her, Glenn looked shabby enough that the word “unkempt” suited him far better than the elegant dress Yuma wore. His long red hair was tied back in a rough knot, and uneven stubble dotted his face. As for his clothes, there was nothing to say. His coat was caked in dirt as though he had simply lain down on the bare ground, and his worn leather sandals would have drawn a wry smile from anyone who knew his true station.
“It seems you’ll need to stop by the castle soon.”
Yuma was no exception. Only a few months earlier she had replaced everything with new garments, yet here he stood looking little better than a beggar. Even so, Glenn only frowned at her concern like a sulky teenage son tired of his parents’ nagging.
“Nagging…”
“If words of concern count as nagging, then I’ll do it as much as I please. Of course, that will mean I visit this place more often.”
“…Do as you like.”
Glenn scratched the back of his head and let out a small sigh. Ever since childhood he had struggled to shake off his slovenly habits, and Yuma’s scolding had always followed him. Becoming Family Head had changed nothing. Avoiding her piercing gaze, he pointed toward the campfire.
“Sit down for now. Standing there forever is awkward.”
The place he indicated was bare earth—no mat, nothing. Hardly a fitting seat for a woman dressed so finely. The head of a great house treating a subordinate with such roughness was striking, yet—
“You’re quite right.”
—Yuma herself only smiled. To her, place and tools were never problems. She could simply make them.
Clap—
At the signal of her hands, earth rose and formed into a table, chairs, and a tea set. A proper pavilion sprang up in the empty campsite, and the acrid smoke of the fire gave way to the fragrance of tea.
“If you need anything else, please say so.”
Yuma tilted the teapot and poured black tea into a cup. Instead of taking it, Glenn simply held out his hand toward her.
“The letter.”
In this moment there was only one thing he wanted. In the fragmentary memory from his dream, Yuma had handed him a letter. Glenn disliked dragging out a future that was already going to happen.
“Here it is.”
Yuma drew a single letter from her breast and laid it on the table. The twice-folded paper was sealed with a wax crest. Ignoring the paper knife she had prepared, Glenn tore the seal open. His half-lidded eyes began to travel down the page.
To my beloved Father,
Now that the eventful succession ceremony has finally ended and a chance has come to send my regards, your inadequate son has taken the liberty of writing a few lines.
Father, are you well?
I am getting along fine with my little sister.
I had always wanted a younger sibling, and somehow you knew and granted that wish. Thanks to her, every day is lively and far from boring—though I can’t help being curious all the same.
Dawn Castle is far too cramped and dull a place to cage a hero, so I’ve decided to go with Uncle. Lucia feels the same.
Even if you come looking for us, we probably won’t be at Dawn Castle.
P.S.
I heard from Uncle that you can see the future. So… when do I die?
Thud—
Glenn set the letter back on the table.
“Well now…”
He scrubbed his face dry with both hands and let out a low groan. Yet when he lowered his hands, his eyes were curved in amusement, as though he had just seen something thoroughly entertaining rather than something painful or tiring.
“Yuma.”
“Yes, Family Head.”
“Do you know what the letter says?”
“Do I look like the sort of ignorant fool who would do something I haven’t been permitted?”
“Then read it.”
Once Glenn gave permission, Yuma reached for the letter lying before her. She read it calmly. When Glenn saw her eyes widen, he continued.
“I figured it would contain something shocking… but even bracing myself, this is beyond what I expected…”
As though his throat had gone dry, Glenn reached for the black tea.
“A child who asks his own father when he’s going to die. Yuma. Did you put him up to this?”
“I did not.”
“Suspicious. Elder Brother would never have told Shiron about the power of prophecy first.”
Glenn’s expression said he had been thoroughly outplayed. A crooked smile touched his lips as he looked at Yuma, clearly waiting for some explanation. Yet Yuma could not open her mouth. Shiron disliked it when she ran her mouth.
“So there’s a reason you can’t tell even me.”
Glenn tapped the table with his fingers. As far as he knew, Shiron had never left Dawn Castle. The one who had watched every move Shiron made was Yuma. If she knew everything about him, there should have been nothing she did not know.
Then Glenn arrived at a certain conclusion.
“Shiron has captured your heart. To put Shiron before me, the Family Head…”
“……He is a young master of truly overwhelming charm.”
Yuma offered the man before her a soft, luminous smile. Like father, like son, perhaps. The crooked smile on Glenn’s face was strangely similar. The weary eyes that usually occupied his face now held a spark of excitement.
“The next Family Head is obviously going to be Shiron. He’s already won you over completely.”
Glenn stretched and rose from his seat. A grim resolve settled in his eyes, as though he already foresaw a fierce battle ahead.
Rumble—
Far in the distance, black thunder was drawing near.
“Looks like I won’t have time to write a reply.”
“An Apostle.”
“Just tell him, ‘I don’t know either.’”
Glenn felt no particular need to lie. The power of prophecy that could part the veil of causality and show even a fragment of what lay beyond simply refused, for some reason, to show him anything of Shiron’s future.
The imperial capital, Rihnn.
“I’ve troubled you a great deal.”
Berta bowed deeply to Hugo. She held a small document case in one hand; the faint creak of leather betrayed how tightly she was gripping it. Shiron stepped close and spoke quietly.
“Relax. Don’t act any different from usual and give them an opening.”
“Yes. Don’t worry.”
Berta looked at him and managed a wry smile. She remembered the two days of mock interviews they had run together. Shiron had imagined every possible scenario and drilled her until she could answer them all.
“Bye-bye, Police Lady!”
Apparently they had grown close in no time; Siriel raised her hand high and waved at Berta’s retreating back. Unlike Lucia, who still looked drained from the long flight, Siriel was bursting with energy—every bit the child she was.
Once they stepped off the platform, everything moved swiftly. Hugo left the remaining arrangements to Yohan, gathered their luggage, and summoned a carriage. Dressed in a formal suit rather than armor, with his rough beard shaved clean, Hugo now looked every inch a sharp, muscular gentleman.
“One moment.”
Hugo had the coachman stop the carriage and stepped into a flower shop. A short while later a large bouquet rested in his hands.
“Oh my…”
“Good heavens…”
The sight made Encia’s and Ophelia’s eyes go round in the carriage following behind. It was only natural: a man who looked more like a bandit than a knight was suddenly showing a sweet side. After eighteen years together, they had every right to doubt their own eyes.
At last they reached Hugo’s mansion. Situated in a clean district that clearly housed only the wealthy, the residence was large and splendid enough to rival Dawn Castle. No—if Dawn Castle was a fortress of the Middle Ages, Hugo’s mansion looked like a castle built five hundred years later.
And then the front gates, sensing their master’s return, swung wide open. The carriage rolled past the rows of waiting maids and only came to a stop at the far end of the courtyard.
Click—
When the door opened, a woman who looked exactly like Siriel stood waiting.
“Welcome home.”
The woman smiling like a lily in full bloom was Eldrina—Siriel’s mother. Hugo placed the bouquet in her arms. A flush rose to Eldrina’s cheeks as her smile blossomed.
“You didn’t have to prepare something like this. You must be so tired.”
“It’s fine. If anything, I’m the one who’s sorry for being away so often.”
“Mother! I missed you!”
Siriel leapt down from the carriage and dashed into Eldrina’s embrace. It was a perfect, picture-book image of an ideal family. There was no room for Shiron or Lucia to step into it.
Awkward…
Shiron gave a sheepish smile and watched the warm family scene from a distance.
“…Shiron.”
He was not the only one who felt that way. Lucia took his hand. Perhaps she simply did not want to become the foreign object that spoiled a harmonious picture. When he glanced down, her face showed clear discomfort. Shiron swallowed the bitter smile that threatened to rise.
This kid’s mental fortitude is weaker than I thought…
Even when he had shown her the Holy Sword, Lucia had never looked like the reincarnation of a hero—just a girl who happened to be a good deal stronger than most her age. Shiron found himself wondering how she had ever managed the feat of sealing the Evil God. With a temperament like this, she would have had trouble killing even one person, let alone the Evil God.
He drew the tightly coiled Lucia into a firm hug and patted her back. She really was a handful.
“It’s okay. You’ve got your big brother.”
“…What?”
Lucia’s reaction was somehow off. Shiron released the hug and looked at her.
“Hm?”
“What are you talking about?”
Lucia stared up at him as though he had just said something completely unintelligible.
“Weren’t you just holding my hand? Looking all lonely?”
“I held your hand because I was worried about you…”
“Why would you be worried about me?”
“Well… because you don’t have a mother?”
“You don’t have a mother either.”
“R-right?”
“…”
What the hell is this?
He had completely misread the situation. The moment the thought struck him, heat rushed to Shiron’s face. The same was true for Lucia.
“Ahem… Let’s just go say hello. Standing here staring is… kind of weird.”
“Y-yeah.”