Laying the Groundwork
Autumn had arrived.
Maple leaves were beginning to turn across the estate, and the garden had filled with cosmos and other autumn blooms. The gardens tended personally by Eldrina, the mistress of the house, changed with every season; a landscape that never grew stale was one of her many points of pride.
And a new scene had unfolded in the mansion's training grounds as well.
Though the sun still hung high, not a single person was swinging a blade or running drills. Day after day of sword practice and hauling iron weights had once been the unquestioned routine — but Viktor's increasingly frequent visits had begun to reshape their lives little by little.
What had changed was the simple existence of playtime.
For Lucia and Siriel, who had always spent their free hours sparring or walking the grounds, the word itself still felt a little foreign. Between them they knew little more than sword fights and wrestling; childish games were a mystery. So they simply did whatever Shiron suggested.
Tag, simple two-on-two war games — and today, Shiron had proposed something a little more special.
"So..." Shiron said, eyeing the keenly honed dagger in his hand. "Your father told you to get friendly with me?"
The dagger was black through and through, refusing to catch even the sunlight pouring straight down from above. Hugo had brought it back from his recent expedition as a gift — forged, supposedly, from the remains of a magic beast he had slain.
"...Yeah."
Viktor nodded. Dressed in black training clothes, his face looked a touch pale, and cold sweat beaded on his brow. He gave the impression of a boy who was slightly unwell.
"More precisely... he said to forge a close bond with you."
"I don't mind either way," Shiron said. "I'm just a little worried about what your father would think if he saw this."
Viktor, of course, was a healthy boy who had never once been sickly. Dozens of court physicians attended him at the palace, and from childhood he had steadily taken every tonic and elixir the empire could offer.
"I-it'll be fine, right? His Majesty seems to think very highly of you..."
Viktor swallowed hard as he answered. It was not the dagger in Shiron's hand that frightened him — it was the game they were about to play.
Shiron swung the dagger this way and that, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"Enough chatter. Let's get ready. You too, Lucia."
"...Haa."
Shiron spoke with a grim, determined look; Lucia heaved a long sigh.
Shiron, Lucia, Viktor — and then Siriel came running up in front of the three of them, white training clothes flapping, a longsword gripped in both hands.
Shiron pressed the dagger to the chin of Lucia, who had been bound tight with rope, and bellowed,
"Keh heh heh! You miserable insect! Who do you think you are, barging in here?!"
Today's game was a roleplay.
The casting was as follows: Siriel played Hero Kyle. Shiron was the Evil God. Lucia was the princess held captive by the Evil God, and Viktor was Minion Number One.
Seeing Shiron's wicked smile, Siriel's eyes sparkled even as she fixed a grave expression on her face and cried out,
"You vile Evil God! Taking even the princess hostage — is the blood of countless lives not enough for you?!"
Siriel, who adored the legends of Kyle, threw herself into the performance with total commitment. So deep was her immersion that, even in a play, a blue aura briefly shimmered along the longsword in her hands.
With a solemn face she recited the lines Shiron had fed her moments earlier.
"I, Kyle, swear upon this place — I will drive the Holy Sword through the Evil God's heart and rescue the princess no matter what!"
"......Please save me. H-Hero..."
As soon as Siriel delivered her assigned line, bound Lucia spoke her own. Her face had gone so red it looked ready to burst.
Playing along with such a childish game made Lucia want to die of shame. Whether she was embarrassed or not, however, the performance rolled on.
Viktor, as Minion Number One, stepped into Siriel's path.
"Keh... heh heh. Hero. If you wish to pass this place... you must defeat me first..."
Having forced out his prepared lines, Viktor's face was slick with cold sweat. His future as a punching bag for Siriel, in her role as the hero, was already written in stone.
Of course Siriel would not put her full strength into it — it was only acting — but after many hours spent with the Prien children, Viktor knew all too well just how monstrously strong she was.
He muttered under his breath toward Siriel, pleading for mercy.
"Take this! Hero's Righteous Punch!"
"Eek!"
Thud!
Siriel's solid fist slammed into Viktor's chest. A thin, pained cry escaped his lips. Even with her strength held back, Siriel was the daughter of a hero's house — Hugo Prien's own child. To a completely untrained Viktor, that fist was far too much.
Thump—
As her knuckles sank into his chest, Viktor clutched himself and collapsed to the ground, drool trailing from his mouth. He looked genuinely hurt.
Whether Viktor had fallen or not, however, was of no concern to Shiron or Siriel.
Once Viktor was down, Shiron laughed like a proper villain and leveled the dagger at Siriel.
"Kyle, you wretch... to fell this body's minion with a single punch — so the title of hero was no empty name after all?!"
"Spare me the flattery! You're next."
Siriel pointed the tip of her longsword at Shiron and charged with all her might. So fierce was her rush that the ground cratered beneath her feet.
"Hero's Consecutive Slash!"
She swung the blunted longsword at Shiron again and again. Even with her power restrained, the path of her blade stirred up a cutting wind.
"Gyaaah!"
Shiron felt the rush of air against his face, then staggered and crumpled in answer to her performance.
Justice had prevailed.
After their brief playtime ended, the four of them sat in the pavilion at the corner of the training grounds, snacking on tea cakes while receiving Siriel's feedback.
"Lucia. Can you really call that a princess held by the Evil God? You should have been screaming — like, aaaaah!"
Apparently unsatisfied with Lucia's half-hearted performance, Siriel fixed her red-haired cousin with an uncharacteristic glare.
"...I'll do it next time."
"Mm. I'd appreciate it if you were more careful from now on. But you're my friend, so I'll leave it at that."
"Yeah... thanks."
Lucia nodded with hollow eyes. She had spent the entire playtime dying of embarrassment, and she still felt the blood pooled hot in her face.
If things keep going like this, how am I ever supposed to reveal that I am Kyle? No matter how strong I get, I'll be too mortified to say a word.
Even in her past life, she could count on one hand the times she had been this mentally exhausted. Facing Yuma of the One Horn, subduing the Flame Dragon Demodoras, slaying the Queen of the Deep — none of it had drained her spirit quite like this.
Maybe I should have just refused, saying I was too busy training...
Regret came late, but the past could not be undone. All she could do was cling to whatever self-justification would keep her crumbling pride from collapsing entirely.
No — when I tried to refuse, Siriel's eyes welled up. For a child who likes me that much... as the adult here, I can manage this much.
Lucia pictured Siriel's delighted face. Immersed in the role of Kyle, the girl had worn the most earnest, passionate expression Lucia had ever seen on her. Siriel had been that serious about playing the hero. So serious that when Shiron first suggested a hero roleplay for the day's game, she had squealed with pure excitement.
If Shiron hadn't insisted on this childish nonsense in the first place, none of this would have happened. Would a normal game of tag have been so hard?
In the end, self-justification was all Lucia had left.
She sighed heavily and looked at the boy sitting across from her — the culprit who had left the prince foaming at the mouth and nearly killed her with embarrassment. Completely oblivious to her feelings, he was leisurely sipping black tea.
"...What are you looking at?"
Shiron, who had been eating the cookies in front of him two at a time, felt her stare and spoke up.
"Is there something on my face?"
"No. Nothing."
"Ah. Don't tell me—"
As if struck by a sudden thought, Shiron quietly set the last cookie in his hand back on the plate.
"There. Happy? You can have this one."
He said it as though he were doing her a favor. Lucia fixed him with a look of pure disbelief.
"Happy about what, you idiot."
"...Lucia. I'm your one and only older brother. That language is a little harsh."
Watching the bickering siblings, Viktor offered a hollow little smile. His chest still ached so badly he had not managed a single cookie since they sat down. Lucia turned a pitying look on him.
"Viktor, don't you have any complaints?"
"Complaints?"
"You just went down foaming at the mouth."
"I-I went down, sure, but I did not foam at the mouth!"
Viktor shot to his feet, bristling. He still could not talk back to Shiron, but he had grown comfortable enough to show this much temper with Lucia and Siriel. He had expected girls stronger than Shiron to have equally vicious personalities — but in his experience, the only true oddity among them was Shiron himself.
Just then, Shiron turned to Viktor with a smiling look in his eyes.
"More importantly, Viktor. Don't you think we've gotten pretty close by now?"
"Huh?"
"The way I see it, we're close enough. Close enough to call each other best friends, even."
"Why are you suddenly saying stuff like that? You're giving me chills..."
Viktor answered with a straight face — but his body betrayed him. He hung his head and fidgeted with his fingers. Taking that as agreement, Shiron beamed.
"So. Think you could invite me over to your place sometime?"
"...My place?"
"You're always the one coming here. It feels a little one-sided. And as best friends, I really ought to pay my respects to your father."
It's adorable little Siriel.