Invitation (3)
Invitation (3)
Just as getting from one end of Seoul to the other could mean spending a rather long time in a car or on the subway, the same held true for the imperial capital.
Of course, the imperial capital had not swollen into a "megacity" on the scale of a modern developed nation's capital on Earth. Its technology and welfare standards both remained at early twentieth-century levels, so while the population had exploded compared to the Middle Ages, not every one of those people had achieved an average life expectancy of seventy years either.
According to official census figures, the imperial population had just barely passed one hundred and ten million. Given the countless illegitimate children and orphans who were endlessly born and died in the factory districts, the real number was likely somewhat higher.
The population of the imperial capital had only just begun to concentrate and had slightly exceeded seven million. By this world's standards it was an overwhelmingly massive metropolis, but from my perspective, knowing genuine megacities like Seoul, New York, and Tokyo, it inevitably felt a little lacking.
In any case, a city of seven million people was hardly small. It might be possible to say it was smaller than Seoul, but the truth was that within Korea itself, outside of Seoul, no other city matched the imperial capital's population anyway.
Because of the infuriating piece of legislation known as the Red Flag Act, operating a steam car within the imperial capital was practically impossible, so the only option left to us was a carriage. Measured against a form of transportation that barely exceeded ten kilometers per hour, a seven-million-person city was inevitably going to feel far larger than any modern city on Earth.
Fortunately, the distance from the academy to House Grace's domain was not all that great.
I had come just this far once before as a child, and that single brief visit was the whole of my experience, but the place remained impressive even on a second viewing.
In the middle of the imperial capital, where smoke belching into the sky symbolized industrialization and steam billowing from locomotives symbolized modernization, there were not many places that could proudly maintain a green lawn.
I was not calling it rustic or anything of the kind. I simply thought that if someone owned land that spacious, they would normally put it to some other use. Nobles were not about to build factories in their front yards, of course, but more often than not they turned such spaces into large ornamental gardens rather than lawns like this.
Furthermore, for a "domain," remarkably few people stood guard over the immediate vicinity. At Winterfield, Northwood, or Crowfield, the castles of the domain lords were surrounded by heavy security. People steered well clear of those guards, who glared one by one at every passerby, bristling with guns and swords.
But this domain was guarded by only two people standing at the entrance.
Even their armament was not much different from what the police officers roaming the imperial capital carried. The only real difference, perhaps, was the sword each wore at the hip.
Sword on the left, pistol on the right. The uniform itself did not differ significantly from what constables in the imperial capital wore as they went about their duties. It was the sort of outfit that would spring to mind when thinking of the early twentieth-century British police: an overcoat fastened with a single row of large buttons, a slender leather belt, dress trousers, and leather shoes. The color was black rather than blue, presumably to distinguish them from the constables. However, the distinctive helmet was absent.
In truth, judging only by the color and weaponry, their appearance was intimidating enough to frighten passersby. But perhaps because the two men standing before the gate wore expressions so relaxed and unhurried, the weapons barely registered as a concern. Frankly, if I were walking down the street and needed to ask for directions, I had the feeling I could comfortably approach these two.
"Welcome, Young Master. And Lady Claire."
"It's been so long!"
Once the inspection—a formality in all but name, consisting of little more than asking whether we had any weapons on us—was over, one of the guards spoke, and Claire waved back with a bright, delighted smile. The guards smiled warmly in return at Claire's smile, which was like watching a flower bloom.
Looking at them again, their impression was less that of men who swung swords and more of cheerful uncles who would laugh heartily when you put a niece or a daughter in front of them.
Judging by the way Claire called it a long time, those guards were likely closer to being House Grace retainers than simply hired hands. Well, retainers were hired with money too, when it came down to it.
"Have you been well all this time?"
Leo spoke after Claire. Since he sat across from her, he had been looking out the same side of the window.
"Of course, Young Master."
"And have you been well, Young Master?"
Even in front of Leo, the future head of the house, the guards chatted with easy familiarity, plainly not the least bit tense.
"Yes, certainly."
"Is that so?"
The slightly older guard said this and grinned.
"The head of the family was worried that you might be doing 'too well,' Young Master."
"...... Pardon?"
"For example, worries that your muscles have softened and you've put on weight......"
As the younger guard scrutinized Leo from head to toe and said that, Leo cried out in horror.
"No! I've been training diligently in my own way!"
"Would not the head of the family judge that for himself?"
I could not help noticing the atmosphere was slightly different from the way they had treated Claire.
Perhaps it came down to Claire being a woman and Leo a man. Under this world's gender norms, a man picking a fight with a woman was itself considered an ungentlemanly thing to do.
On top of that, Leo was the future head of the house. That meant he was someone who would bear responsibility for this family as a member of it until the day he died of old age.
Claire, on the other hand...... someday she would marry a man of some other noble house. She would still carry the connection—she would be "formerly of House Grace"—but in the end her surname would follow her husband's and change, and she would belong to a family other than House Grace.
So it would be no great problem to allow Claire a little more freedom. Knowing how to observe the minimum courtesy expected of a noble was sufficient.
After they bickered back and forth for a while like that, a bell rang from what looked somewhat like a speaker attached to the main gate.
The younger guard walked over and put his ear to the speaker.
After listening briefly, he returned and looked toward us with a smile.
"Baron and Baroness Grace convey that they are honored by the visit of the two Imperial Princesses."
Then the two men drew their swords with a crisp flourish and rendered a sword salute—chak. The posture, with the blade held rigid and upright before the face and one hand clasped behind the back, was splendid enough to appear on the game's packaging art.
"I offer thanks on behalf of the Imperial Household."
When Alice said this, offering as much formality as she could manage from inside the carriage, the two men released the salute.
"Then all of us hope you may enjoy yourselves and find your time at the Grace domain pleasant and rewarding."
*
The word "unadorned" did not always include the implication "looks impoverished."
Generally speaking, a noble's domain was supposed to be decorated splendidly. Gardens where every kind of flower bloomed in masses of color, magnificent fountains. Occasionally, some even had mazes built into them.
But as I had noted earlier, the Grace domain was not the sort of place decked out in such splendor.
That said, keeping a lawn this immaculate was hardly an easy task either. Not a single blade of grass stuck up above the rest; there were no holes dug or any patches gone yellow and withered.
The buildings were the same. The structures of House Grace, apparently built with the latest construction methods, bore almost none of the antique-looking ornate decoration seen on the buildings of other domains. If anything, their style called to mind twentieth-century New York rather than a European castle.
Because the buildings had been constructed in a restrained manner that avoided excessive fussiness, it was impossible to escape the impression that this was less a "domain" and more a "facility" of some sort. One might say it had the feel of a university with a long history.
"Your Highnesses honor us with this visit."
The head of the house, Baron Edward Grace, had already come out in front of the main building's entrance.
I could not tell what had changed much from the face I had seen ten years before. In truth, having glimpsed him only briefly from a distance, it was difficult to picture him clearly.
Still, certain features of his face resembled Leo's. The blue hair, for instance. The eyes. Probably, the reason Claire had been able to blend naturally into this family despite sharing no blood with them was thanks to this man's hair color and those blue eyes. If I had not known the truth behind their circumstances, I would certainly have assumed they were blood relatives.
Perhaps they really were distant relatives, for all I knew. Nothing about Claire's parents had been revealed up to the point I had played through.
When the baron bent at the waist and observed the nobles' formal etiquette, the baroness, who had stood a short distance behind him, gently bent her waist and knees as well. She too was someone with blue hair. In her case, however, the color was not the vivid blue of her husband's; depending on the light, it seemed to take on a slight mixed tinge of emerald.
"We have come as Claire and Leo's friends, so please do not stand on such ceremony with us."
When Alice spoke calmly, I nodded along.
I did not bow my head or waist, however.
Truly, rank seemed to complicate personal relationships in the most frustrating ways.