At that same hour.
Riersha had eagerly grabbed Arcmund’s hand the moment he offered to buy her new clothes — and, more thrillingly, proposed venturing outside the main castle.
The Arachrene direct territory.
It was known for its beautiful eastern sea and the famous general goods flagship store, which drew a fair number of travelers throughout the year.
On top of that, goods handled directly by the Arachrene family could be purchased at lower prices here than anywhere else, so the territory’s popularity never seemed to wane.
And the most famous attraction of all was, without question…
Riersha’s mouth fell open at the sight of a magical train — something she had never seen before in her life.
“Wow!”
“It’s a magic train. It runs on a large supply of Serinel as fuel. It’s one of the prized landmarks of the Arachrene domain — something you can only see here.”
“Oh my.”
It seemed the applications for Serinel were truly endless.
The drawback was that it required enormous quantities of magical energy and an extraordinarily high level of technical skill to operate.
But before the financial might of the Arachrene family, such concerns were hardly worth mentioning.
“And the central district is lit up every night with lights that illuminate the roads — even the most remote back alleys.”
“…Wow.”
“Ever since Lord Arcmund received the dukedom, our territory has had the best public safety record in the entire Declair Empire. Second only to the capital, of course.”
Sona, who had come along as their attendant for the day, explained everything in her soft, composed voice. When Riersha gasped in admiration, Arcmund smiled with quiet satisfaction.
“Are you really that happy, going out with your old grandfather?”
“Yes! I’m so, so happy. And everything is so amazing…”
Perhaps it was the explanation she’d heard about just how exceptional the Arachrene direct territory was compared to any other place — but Riersha found her shoulders rising of their own accord with a quiet pride.
At the same time, she began to understand why the Emperor harbored such deep feelings of inferiority toward the Arachrene ducal family.
So that’s why the Emperor has such a complex about them.
Some time ago, while studying the various ducal families, Carden had briefly touched on the Imperial House — as one naturally would when discussing the history of the nobility.
“The current Emperor does receive divine blessing, but historically speaking, he has been confirmed as the weakest to ever hold the throne. The reason remains unclear. Because of this, his relationship with the Temple has grown distant.”
The Emperor, it seemed, was on the receiving end of thinly veiled contempt from the Temple.
In the Declair Empire, the ruler of the nation had always been, by tradition, the ruler of the Temple as well — for the Emperor was the singular being upon whom the divine blessing was most directly and powerfully bestowed.
But starting with the current Emperor, that blessing had been born weak, and friction had followed naturally.
There was yet another problem on top of that.
“The current Pope, Christia, has manifested an extraordinarily powerful divine force — one stronger even than the Emperor’s.”
That meant, in plain terms, that the Temple no longer had any reason to look up to the Emperor. The Temple’s authority and power had always required the legitimacy of divine force to be exercised — and until now, it had relied upon the Declair Imperial family, who possessed the strongest divine force among all humans. But with the emergence of a powerful Pope, the Temple had finally found within itself the strength to stand alone.
A powder keg, just waiting to ignite.
Nothing had exploded on the surface yet.
But the moment someone made the first move, it would be nothing short of war.
The four great ducal families were what kept that precarious balance intact, holding everything in check.
Even now, though they kept one another in competition and were far from friendly.
Riersha glanced up at Arcmund.
“Grandpa, the domain is so beautiful. You’re the one who made it like this, right? You’re the best!”
Riersha’s eyes sparkled as if she were looking at the most remarkable person in the world. Arcmund let out a quiet, deflated laugh.
“You little thing.”
Until this moment, no one had ever said such a thing to Arcmund directly.
Not a single person.
Because for an Arachrene, achieving such things was simply expected. It was what one did.
And as time passed, no one had dared to offer such praise so openly to the Duke of Arachrene.
In short, it had been a very, very long time since he had last heard something this warmly embarrassing.
And to hear it now, from his granddaughter who had only just begun to step out and see the world — it left Arcmund with a feeling he couldn’t quite name.
“Grandpa, you’re amazing!”
“Indeed, Your Grace is truly extraordinary. They say that in your younger years, even the Emperor would not dare speak to you first!”
“Really?”
“Yes!”
Lower in rank than the Emperor, yet an existence even the Emperor could not handle carelessly.
That such a man had come running the moment he heard the news that Riersha had grown taller — without a moment’s hesitation…
She was beginning to feel that she had truly become someone special and precious to Arcmund.
“…Thank you for buying me clothes today, Grandpa.”
Riersha quietly reached over and took hold of Arcmund’s sleeve as she spoke.
Thud. Arcmund felt his heart plummet straight to the floor.
There was not a single thing about her that wasn’t precious, but this granddaughter of his was so impossibly adorable that he could have scooped her up and squeezed her on the spot.
Yet Arcmund maintained his stern expression.
When her grandfather’s demeanor suddenly stiffened, Riersha tilted her head in puzzled confusion.
She racked her brain trying to recall if she had said something wrong — but nothing came to mind.
“…Grandpa?”
“Right now.”
“…?”
“Drive the carriage faster. Right now.”
Arcmund issued the order.
The coachman, who had been guiding the horses at an easy, leisurely pace, cocked his head in confusion.
Drive as slowly as possible. I want plenty of time to enjoy the outing with my granddaughter.
Had that not been the instruction given at the start?
And yet now he was being told to go faster, immediately.
The coachman followed the order and urged the horses to pick up speed.
Creak.
Soon, the carriage rolled to a stop in front of a small children’s clothing boutique.
“We have arrived, Your Grace.”
Arcmund’s crimson eyes locked onto the boutique with an intensity that was almost frightening.
⁂
The Little One’s Boutique.
It was the most celebrated shop in all of the Arachrene territory for the charm of its children’s clothing.
So much so that wealthy customers frequently swept the entire inventory clean on a single visit.
Today was no different.
“Magretta, you lucky thing. I heard you’ve got a customer who rented out the whole shop again today?”
Alysha, the owner of the neighboring store, watched with unmistakable envy.
“I should’ve made children’s clothes too. Look at this — all I’ve got are flies buzzing around.” Alysha sold fine perfumes, having opened her shop with the hope that customers leaving Magretta’s boutique with new outfits might stop in for a matching fragrance.
“Even so, dealing with nobility always has me on edge,” Magretta replied.
As a commoner, the clientele she served were, more often than not, those of privilege and power. That meant her head was instinctively bowed and her manner instinctively deferential — and her occupational habit had grown so deeply ingrained that even when she visited other shops as a customer herself, she would cry out “Welcome!” the instant she heard the door chime.
And beyond that, the process of selecting fabric for children’s clothing alone was painstakingly finicky — by the time she had sold a piece, there was hardly any profit left.
Of course, the fact that Magretta threw herself so wholeheartedly into her craft, going far beyond what was strictly necessary, was also a significant part of why the margins were so thin.
Alysha gave her a pat on the shoulder.
“Still, you’ve got the best business in the whole neighborhood! A talent like yours — why stay out here in the west instead of going to the capital? Then again, the Arachrene direct territory isn’t a bad place at all. So who’s the customer this time?”
“Ah, well… I’m not entirely sure myself. They stopped by beforehand and gave me this, saying they’d like to rent the shop for the day.”
Magretta reached into her pocket and produced something.
An elegant name plaque.
But no matter how long she stared at it, she couldn’t place it, and shook her head.
“Let me have a look. I did work as a perfumer for a noble house once, you know.”
Having served as a perfumer for a fairly prominent noble family, Alysha knew the insignias of most major houses by sight.
She took the plaque and narrowed her eyes.
“Let’s see.”
“Does it look familiar?”
“It’s just…”
She felt like she had seen it somewhere before.
…In fact, she had seen it all the time. Everywhere.
Because…
Alysha slowly lifted her gaze toward the statue standing at the center of the main plaza.
A twin-headed dragon, its necks arched high toward the sky.
And on the dragon’s chest — a crest. The very same crest engraved on the name plaque.
“…It couldn’t be, could it?”
Magretta’s eyes wavered.
She had dealt with noble clients before, many times — but never one of this caliber. She felt as though she might actually faint.
“You already knew all along and were just pretending you didn’t, weren’t you?”
“…I’m not going to have to close my shop after today, am I?”
Magretta was pressing her lips together in a miserable grimace as she reached out to take the plaque back.
Creak.
A magnificent carriage drew to a stop in front of the shop.
It was a splendid gold carriage, known to belong to none other than the Duke of Arachrene himself.
Surrounding it were the beings known only as the Knights — the Duke’s personal guard, stationed around the carriage in full formation.
A moment later, the carriage door swung open and—
“Hellooo.”
A child with cotton-candy pink hair beamed at her with the most radiant smile imaginable. In an entirely different sense than before, Magretta felt as though she might faint on the spot.
There you are. My muse.
