A Warm May Afternoon
Try it, then.
Under the warm sunlight of a warm May afternoon, the southern lands of Gallia, specifically Baron Valmont’s territory, overflowed with the sweet fragrance of strawberries and cherries. The baron’s mansion, too, carried a rich, mellow atmosphere steeped in the scents of abundant flowers and ripening fruit.
In the fragrant garden of that mansion sat a handsome young man with golden hair. He was a guest visiting the estate—Léonard, Lydia’s twin brother.
“…”
Léonard de Gallia read the letter in his hands. It was from Lydia. Only three months had passed since she entered Arjen Academy, yet the letter was packed with countless incidents and accidents. Even the tales of hardship that would make anyone click their tongue were written in a calm, matter-of-fact tone.
“You’ve been keeping yourself quite busy.”
When Lydia first declared that she would go to Arjen Academy herself, how shocked he had been. No matter how much she claimed it was to protect herself in the neutral zone, sending a royal princess to the Academy? He had wondered if it wouldn’t be better for her to work in the relatively free Foreign Ministry, like himself.
‘…It’s not as if she’s aiming to inherit the family estate or join a knight order.’
At least in the southern continent, the recognition one received after enduring the Academy was immense. It was an old custom born from the legends and traditions of the Hero.
—Any noble worthy of the name must either protect their lands from the monsters that constantly swarm them, or raise their sword beneath the Sun God to show loyalty to the king.
—This is the path the Sun God desires.
It was a deeply rooted custom in the Kingdom of Gallia ever since the era of the Holy Sword Hero Arjen.
“…”
Léonard looked down at his own smooth, callus-free hands and gave a bitter smile. How many times had he heard the words “unmanly” because of these hands?
‘The Republic criticizes the Kingdom of Gallia for being gripped by collective madness.’
At least, Léonard could not strongly refute that claim. Was that why Lydia had wanted to escape this kingdom’s peculiar customs?
“Well, she’s never been the type to care about such things.”
But in the end, Lydia had gone to the Academy. And she was still living diligently there. Her enrollment as a princess, the discovery of the Holy Sword, her hectic Academy life, the Theocracy testing whether the Hero was real… All those events were written plainly in the letter.
…Such things have occurred. Nevertheless, I am enjoying a pleasant Academy life alongside several friends with whom I share a good rapport. Fortunately, even Lucian de Montrang, the ‘Golden Knight’ who leads the orthodox noble faction students, has graciously ‘acknowledged’ the humble social activities of this frail young lady.
“Frail young lady? Graciously acknowledged…?”
Léonard read that part and let out a soft chuckle.
‘She didn’t ask for acknowledgment—she forced him to give it. No matter how much of a Golden Knight he is, with her eloquence and charisma, she would have been able to persuade him.’
The proud girl would never have coquettishly flattered Lucian like some ordinary noble daughter. Beyond the words in the letter, he could clearly picture her standing tall, confronting him head-on and claiming her place.
‘Even if there are still those who mock her as the abandoned golden child… once they see those lofty eyes of yours, they will all be drawn in.’
Walking the delicate tightrope between the reformist and noble factions while making ‘friends’ who could embrace everyone—it was not a bad strategy. It was an extremely difficult and dangerous one, but if it was Lydia, she could pull it off. She had been born with that kind of boldness and charisma. Having watched her since childhood, Léonard knew it well.
“…”
In truth, to be completely honest… at least in Léonard’s judgment, among the current Gallia royal family, the one most suited for the throne was…
‘Probably Lydia…’
“…”
Léonard stopped his thoughts there. It was far too dangerous a notion. It was also a useless greed that had no place in his future plans. He quickly shook his head, casting the thought away.
‘What matters is that you are someone who can shine anywhere you go.’
“And with Mirian by your side, I can rest easy.”
The maid Mirian. After the death of the twins’ mother, Lady Eleonora, she had been the nanny who cared for them. She was far too capable to be serving in the mansion of a forsaken royal family, yet she was an incredibly strong and reliable woman.
‘After all, Mirian is a veteran who survived that hellish northern front. Having her by our side was a tremendous stroke of luck.’
“We were fortunate.”
That they had remained safe until now. That such a good person had stayed with them.
“…”
‘If our luck holds like this in the future, there would be nothing more to wish for.’
Léonard neatly folded the letter and slipped it into the inner pocket of his coat. The moment he rose from his seat, a massive old man approached from afar with polite steps.
“Your Highness Léonard.”
“!”
It was old Max, the gardener and servant of the twins’ royal mansion.
“Max! You must still be weary from the long journey. Are you sure you don’t need more rest?”
“How could I possibly rest comfortably while Your Highness is here?”
Standing nearly two meters tall, old Max was still dressed in his rough linen clothes and straw hat. Along with Mirian, he was one of the parental figures who had looked after the twins since birth.
‘Having old Max by my side is a blessing as well.’
Léonard smiled warmly at him.
“While Baron Valmont was away in the Republic, I spent several months here in the mansion feeling rather adrift. To have both Lydia’s letter and you arrive at the same time… it gives me tremendous strength.”
Old Max bowed his head.
“By good fortune, those who will take over the management of the mansion arrived shortly after I left. So I came straight here to attend to Your Highness. Though this old man’s knees suffered a bit on the rough journey, I gladly endured it.”
“Are you truly all right?”
“Heh heh, I am already old and ailing. One more ailment makes no difference.”
Old Max’s mouth curved into a mischievous smile, deepening the wrinkles on both sides of his face. He looked like an old tree standing beneath the evening glow.
“I hope Your Highness will not cast out this sick and unsightly old servant. The road back is quite frightening.”
“!”
Léonard burst into loud laughter at the familiar, cheeky remark. Many people offered him empty flattery, but only one person ever delivered flattery wrapped in such warm mischief.
“Hahaha!”
Good heavens—old Max, sick and unsightly? That was a joke even a passing goblin would laugh at. Léonard still remembered how the old man had once protected him by setting the handle of his axe on fire to drive away low-level forest monsters. He had looked more gallant and dependable than any knight.
“Max! Were you not the warrior who burned the handle of his axe to repel goblins in order to protect me when I was only five years old? Having a man like you come all the way to Baron Valmont’s estate is incredibly reassuring. I will never cast you out, so set your mind at ease.”
“It is an honor, Your Highness.”
“It feels as though my personal guard knight has finally come to my side.”
“…”
“You may think of yourself as a gardener, but in my heart, you are more dependable than any knight.”
“…”
Old Max quietly gazed at Léonard with eyes as warm as if he were looking at his own grandson.
“…It is an honor.”
“By the way, the strawberries here are truly delicious.”
“They are the finest strawberries in the entire Kingdom of Gallia.”
“If Lydia were here, she would probably have eaten three whole baskets on the spot.”
“Her Highness Lydia would never do that.”
“Hoho, is that so? Well, she is a proper lady now, after all.”
“…Her Highness Lydia could easily finish five baskets.”
“What? Hahaha! Well, I suppose that’s true.”
They strolled through the warm garden for a while, exchanging lighthearted jokes. It felt as warm as the times they had shared back at the twins’ royal mansion.
While they were doing so, the mansion’s steward approached.
The steward bowed politely to Léonard and said,
“Baron Valmont is passing through the territory and heading toward the mansion. He said he would come to greet Your Highness shortly.”
“!”
Léonard clenched his fist tightly.
‘Now it is my turn to start building my own people.’
Isn’t that right, Lydia?
“…”
But Lydia was not by his side. She was at the Academy. Still, if she had been here, she would have slowly nodded with her hands gracefully clasped, her eyes burning with passionate resolve. For some reason, he felt certain of it.
“…”
I pray that Baron Valmont accepts my proposal.
‘…There is no longer any hope for us in this kingdom. We must pry open the closed diplomatic doors of this isolated nation and establish a support base in the Republic, our old ally. Before the beasts aiming for the throne set their eyes on us.’
For Léonard to knock on the half-open door of the Republic, the only opportunity was now—while the Gallia king’s eyes were clouded by the issue of royal succession. And before the royals who coveted Lydia’s beauty began to move… there was not much time left.
While the Vow of Chastity still protected her, Léonard had to walk his own path.
And the first place he would throw himself into was the embrace of the reformist faction.
Léonard met Baron Valmont in the mansion’s study. Old Max the gardener waited outside in the antechamber.
Cedric Valmont, head of the Valmont family—one of Gallia’s oldest prestigious houses and the one responsible for all diplomatic affairs—greeted him with more elegance than any gentleman in the kingdom. He exuded the dignity befitting a central figure of the reformist faction, which had rapidly grown in power since the ‘Northern Invasion Incident’ twenty years ago.
“It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness Léonard de Gallia, the Golden One of Gallia.”
“…”
Léonard did not return the greeting. Instead, he displayed the exact posture that newly rising nobles showed to an ‘opponent they had come to negotiate with.’ He stood straight, one hand behind his back, palm gently revealed.
Baron Valmont fell silent at the gesture.
“…”
In that stance, Léonard spoke.
“Léonard de Gallia, belonging to the Foreign Ministry of the Kingdom of Gallia, has come to request assistance from the Minister.”
“…What kind of assistance have you come to request?”
Not as a member of the royal family, but as a Foreign Ministry official. That was how Léonard had chosen to greet Baron Valmont.
Now, it was truly beginning.