Mage Marygold (11)
“……”
Aldebar of Lukia. Objectively speaking, he was an excellent marriage prospect. The only drawbacks were his somewhat cold impression and the fact that he was utterly inscrutable.
The man was set to become the crown prince of the Lukia Kingdom right after graduating from the academy. Marrying Aldebar meant becoming the queen. It wasn't on the level of an empress of the empire, but it was still an enormous leap in status all the same. It was probably closer to a normal ending than anything Marygold had ever achieved before.
But.
“Yeah… good for you.”
For some reason, that's what Lancel ended up saying. He was bewildered by his own words. Logically speaking, he should have said something like, 'Don't throw away your good fortune—go back and confess to him first!' That would have been far better for her. But he hadn't. It felt almost instinctual.
“……Yes……”
Marygold nodded, her eyes trembling in the lamplight. He could feel her fingers fumbling from below her waist, seeking out the palm of his hand.
Mary. You really have no eye for men.
In this loop, all he'd done was follow her around and torment her. At least, that's how Lancel saw it. And yet, she had chosen him. She'd grumbled and pushed him away, puffed out her cheeks like a blowfish just because he'd sided with the knights, muttered unheard-of phrases like “knight corruption” with a teary face. But as their time together lengthened, those walls crumbled swiftly. Before he knew it, she was the closest one by his side.
“W-W-Well then, I'll be going now……”
Marygold vanished out of the tent. Shwaaa—! Once more, only the sound of rain filled the air.
“Lancel.”
It was then. A youthful voice suddenly rose from below.
The 7th Prince.
“Are you awake?”
“Lancel, you like that girl, right? Just now.”
“……Who knows.”
“Really? You had the face of someone in love.”
No way.
Lancel had always kept a perfectly stoic face in front of Marygold. He made a conscious effort to look that way, so he was certain of it.
“I don't dislike her.”
“So you like her?”
“Yeah, I suppose I do.”
“I see?”
The 7th Prince smiled faintly.
“Shall I make the marriage happen?”
“Pardon?”
It was hard to tell just how sincere the 7th Prince had been that day. It took quite a long time before Lancel saw him again after that.
……
“The 7th Prince recommended Mary as the mage for the Founding Festival.”
“The 7th Prince recommended Mary?”
“That's not all.”
A few days later, the school principal and Laura exchanged grave words.
“He even nominated her as a candidate for court mage. The 7th Prince himself…! At this rate, Mary might enter the imperial court even before you, Professor Laura!”
“Heavens!”
From that point on, Marygold's life began to unfold too perfectly.
23. ‘Is the peak coming to Marygold's life?’
After that one night and day spent with Lancel and the 7th Prince, Marygold's existence seemed rewarded for all the misfortunes of past years, treading a smooth, unbroken path forward.
“Mary pushed aside Lord Aldebar and will open the Founding Festival?”
“And Lord Aldebar handed it over cleanly, without a single complaint.”
“No way!”
'No way!'
Lancel wanted to shout it too. Aldebar, the genius mage who had practically been set in stone for the role, had stepped aside without protest. Why? Because he had feelings for Marygold? To impress her? Because he wanted to date her? Marry her?
No, that couldn't be. He was the pride of the Lukia Kingdom. There was no way he'd hand over the top spot to Marygold over something so trivial. Moreover, he had diplomatic skills outstanding enough to brush off even a recommendation from a young prince far down the line of succession. At the very least, he was on equal footing with that kid.
And yet, he'd withdrawn. For Marygold's sake.
What an odd thing.
Anyway, it was good news.
24. One day. Two days. Three days. A week. A month. Half a year.
'Time flies.'
Lancel was certainly skilled at passing the time well. But the days after that flew by him like arrows. Perhaps because there were no stimulating incidents or accidents. Or maybe because everything proceeded without a hitch.
Either way, the important thing was that time was passing too quickly.
Yes. Unnaturally so.
* * *
“Mary, top student of the academy magic department.”
On the first day of the Founding Festival, Marygold showcased her magic before all the nobles and imperial family. It was a dazzling spell that shot hundreds of bursts of flame into the sky. Marygold earned the acclaim of everyone watching.
“The best, my disciple!”
Baron Jenis screamed it, casting aside all decorum. It was fireworks on that level. Boom boom!
As he watched Marygold's multicolored explosions, Lancel briefly lost himself in memories.
“Success! I finally did it!”
That year, Baron Jenis's airship soared through the capital skies. It was the first time in hundreds of years of loops that Lancel had seen his research succeed. It had always been a crash or an explosion—one or the other. Could this be Marygold's influence too? Who knew.
“Valedictorian of the academy magic department! Mary!”
Marygold finally graduated from the academy as top of her class. Lancel stepped down as adjunct professor at that point too.
“Sir Lancel!”
He simply stroked the head of the girl beaming with a bouquet in her arms.
“Good job.”
“New court mage, Mary. Looking forward to working with you.”
“Thank you! Your Highness!”
It was the year Marygold, having fully mastered 4th-rank magic, entered the imperial court. Thanks to the 7th Prince's strong recommendation, she was appointed court mage and began days filled with endless busyness: research, experiments, study, meditation, training, securing specimens, and more.
“I love magic… love… love…”
“Where'd that old fire go?”
Lancel watched the girl return each time with bleary eyes.
That year, Marygold began learning 5th-rank magic. A true high mage now. No one on this land could look down on her anymore.
“Congratulations, Mary. Or should I say, Baroness Mary now?”
The 7th Prince visited her personally, bearing a gift of congratulations. The world now called her “Baroness Mary.” Hereditary title or not, she had nominally joined the nobility.
“What do you think, Sir Lancel?”
“Yeah, yeah. It suits you.”
“Look closer!”
Marygold showed off her imperial robe embroidered with golden thread. Lancel felt a pang of the generations' shift within it.
“There's nothing left for me to teach you now. Mary, you've earned the right to learn 6th-rank magic. My pride and joy.”
Marygold had finally surpassed Jenis. 6th rank. She was now one of the empire's top ten mages.
“Should I be the master from now on?”
“Kehhehe, cheeky brat.”
Jenis began preparing for retirement right after. Gazing at airships flying the capital skies multiple times a day and his splendidly grown disciple, Jenis seemed immersed in the satisfaction of having achieved all he'd desired.
“Take care of Mary for me, even if I don't come back, Lancel. Thinking about it, maybe our meeting really was fate.”
“Why leave a last will when you have so many years left? Save it for later.”
“Who knows. This might really be my last words. People don't always die right on schedule, do they? No regrets. That thing up in the sky will etch my name into the empire's history.”
Jenis shared a brief embrace with Marygold before boarding the train. His final words were that he'd spend his remaining days quietly practicing magic.
“You two should get on with it too. Get engaged.”
“Pardon?”
That year, under the 7th Prince's arrangements, Lancel and Marygold became engaged once more. Just like the day he'd married the lady of Iceford—one of the capital's three great beauties—their betrothal proceeded in a flash, leaving no room for refusal by those in power. Aldebar even attended the ceremony. With a slightly bitter expression, he simply clapped silently and left. That was all.
“May neither good nor evil, neither death nor time, nor eternity ever part these two!”
Marriage. Engagement. Already their second ceremony? No, third? Fourth if you stretched it? Who cared.
“You two, now kiss.”
Lancel entered yet another engagement with Marygold, not even sure what number it was.
“Oh! Does that mean I'm part of a knight family now, Sir Lancel?”
“……Is that what's on your mind right now?”
“J-Just a little?”
“……”
When will this knight phobia finally vanish?
Lancel let out a hollow chuckle.
Lancel followed Marygold into the imperial court. From knight and mage, professor and academy student, now to court knight and court mage. Storybooks depicting Lancel and Marygold's tale began selling in the capital. It was an unusual relationship to outsiders, after all.
“Sir Lancel.”
With both caught up in busy schedules, they didn't meet often. Even so, Marygold looked happy. Yes, she looked happy. Everything went smoothly, the whole world embracing her warmly. In all the years past, this had never happened. No wars, no rebellions, no tragedies whatsoever. Amid the swiftly passing time, Marygold felt a modest but certain happiness.
'So this loop ends like this.'
And so they reached the 10-year mark.
And then.
Lancel's regression came to an end.
“Huh?”
Yes. The long, endless regressions spanning hundreds of years ended.
So pointlessly. In the span of a single moment.
“No way, right?”
“Pardon?”
The twenty-five-year-old mage Marygold, still youthful in appearance, tilted her head before him.
“What are you talking about all of a sudden, Sir Lancel?”
The twenty-eight-year-old Lancel clutched his head in confusion before her.
All thought in his mind ground to a halt.
“Make it more touching. I stayed up all night preparing this birthday dinner. It was insanely tough squeezing it in with how busy I am.”
“No.”
Lancel panicked.
“This is……huh?”
“……Pardon?”
What the hell was really going on.