What is this?
Riscal had just arrived at Risideon’s castle when he overheard the conversation in the parlor, and his expression went rigid.
Father actually said that?
He had assumed, of course, that Father had managed to convince his brother. Riscal pressed his fist tight against his side, the sting of betrayal sharp in his chest.
In the end, he couldn’t bear merely listening from the hallway. He pushed open the parlor door and walked in.
“Riscal. Barging in like this — what kind of manners do you call that?”
Risideon scolded him with a flat look. He had known from the start that Riscal was eavesdropping just outside the door.
Riscal stared at him with relentless, burning eyes before crying out.
“Why does brother have to go back to the Imperial Palace? If someone has to go, it shouldn’t be you — she should be the one to go!”
“Me?”
Riersha blinked and pointed at herself, caught completely off guard.
She had no idea why the spark had suddenly jumped in her direction.
“Yes, you!”
Riscal’s eyes turned red at the rims.
No matter how much the family hailed him as a prodigy, Riscal was still only seven years old.
Being separated from his family for years on end was a trial that even he could barely endure.
He had let himself hope that they could finally all live together again, and now…
“This is all your fault.”
“Riscal.”
“Why? I’m not wrong!”
Riscal looked at Riersha, his voice full of resentment.
“If you had just awakened a little sooner…!”
Then none of them would have had to live apart like this.
His throat locked around the rest of the words. He couldn’t finish.
The Arachrene family — the name everyone called extraordinary — was Riscal’s deepest pride.
⁂
“Mother, when will my little sibling be born?”
“Just a hundred more sleeps, and they’ll be here. Are you eager to meet them, Riscal?”
“Yes.”
“Ricador is already jealous, you know. Will you be the grown-up one and look after your sibling?”
“I want them to be born soon. I’ll play with them so much. Come on, let’s meet soon.”
⁂
Little Riscal had visited his mother every single day. He would press his ear to her belly and tell his unborn sibling all kinds of stories.
His mother would smile warmly at the sight of him — reading picture books aloud with tremendous effort, his pronunciation spilling and stumbling with childish imprecision.
When the family physician told them it was going to be a little sister, Riscal had wanted to announce it to every corner of the castle.
I want her to be born soon. Then I’ll teach her everything. I’d better study hard for that.
He practically lived in the library.
He wanted to be a wonderful older brother the moment his sister arrived.
But then…
“I hate you, Riersha.”
Riscal said it firmly, biting down on his jaw.
The day Riersha was born, Riscal’s entire world shattered.
His mind understood that it wasn’t her fault. But his heart hated her anyway.
“Why couldn’t you have awakened just a little sooner?”
Drip. Drip.
Tears fell from Riscal’s reddened eyes.
Riersha stepped toward him one careful step at a time and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks.
Then she took his hand.
“I’m sowwy I was late.”
Riersha thought of a picture book — the one from before she had turned back time. She had never known who left it.
She had been about six years old.
Just old enough to puzzle through letters with clumsy effort.
The picture book had been lying on her bed, illustrated simply enough that even a child who barely knew how to read could follow along.
Whoever had left it seemed to have been in a hurry — the window was open, and the room was in slight disarray.
Thinking back on it now, the book had been explaining how to handle magical power.
It had been taken away almost immediately by a maid who came to clean. But still.
It was Riscal. He was the one who left that book in my room.
Only now did she understand who had placed it there.
Strictly speaking, she had no proof it was him.
But Riersha was certain.
He was the one who had wanted her awakening more desperately than anyone.
And he was more than clever enough to have made a book like that.
“Tank you, Riscal oppa.”
Riersha said it with her whole heart.
“…Did you actually hear what I just said? I told you I don’t like you.”
“Uh-huh. I wike Riscal oppa so much too. So don’t be mad at me.”
Riscal stared at Riersha — this girl who responded to his harsh words with nothing but warmth — and bit down hard on his lip.
“Is she an actual fool or what…”
His hand, still held in hers, stayed right where it was.
⁂
The morning of departure for the Imperial Palace.
Riersha sat inside the carriage and gazed out the window.
They were just about to set off for the capital.
“Have a safe trip. Don’t forget my present on the way back.”
“Mm-hm. Ricador oppa, stay well while I’m gone! Don’t cwy even if you miss me.”
“What do you take me for… Why would I cry over a few days?”
Ricador, who had come out to see her off, scrunched up his face.
Beside him, to her surprise, Riscal also stood there — expression sulky, arms crossed. By all appearances, he had been dragged out by Ricador.
“Riscal, why aren’t you saying goodbye?”
The carriage was nearly ready to leave, but Riscal hadn’t said a word. Ricador nudged his shoulder.
“I woke you up this morning specifically to come see her off.”
“…W-when did I ever ask you to do that?”
“You did.”
“That was only because I thought you’d pester me later about why I hadn’t woken you up.”
Riscal pretended he had no idea what Ricador was talking about.
Then, so quickly you’d miss it if you weren’t listening, he tossed out a farewell.
“Have a decent trip, I guess.”
Riersha’s face lit up like a lantern.
“I’ll buy Riscal oppa a pwesent too!”
“Don’t bother.”
“Okay! I’ll definitely get one.”
“Are you even listening to me?”
Riscal’s voice cracked with exasperation as Riersha cheerfully interpreted his words however she pleased.
Ricador snickered at the two of them.
The warmth of the moment settled over Riersha like a soft blanket, and she smiled to herself.
Then she looked toward Arcmund, who was standing further back.
“Gwandpa! I’ll go and come back safely!”
“Don’t follow anyone who offers you food in the capital. Understood?”
“Yes!”
Riersha answered with gusto.
Even so, Arcmund didn’t seem reassured. He kept on with his instructions.
“Don’t wander off alone in the Imperial Palace and get lost.”
“Yes!”
“If you cause a bit of trouble, this old man will sort it out for you.”
“…Yes?”
That last part was slightly odd.
Riersha blinked, a little thrown off.
“Then let’s be on our way.”
Time had been slipping past, and Pernoa gave the coachman the word.
That man is the one taking Riersha.
Arcmund stood there with a deeply aggrieved heart.
He had planned to keep his granddaughter close while Pernoa was away from the castle.
But Pernoa had gotten there first.
The reality of it was that Riersha herself had begged to go along — but Arcmund’s eyes simply didn’t see it that way.
To him, it looked exactly like Pernoa taking advantage of the moment to make off with Riersha.
Conniving fellow.
It was beyond question that Pernoa was the child’s birth father. But that didn’t matter.
“Riersha, will you bring your grandfather a present too?”
“Of couwse!”
Riersha nodded, and Arcmund’s lips began to curve helplessly upward into a fond smile.
But he caught himself — keenly aware of the eyes around him — and quickly composed his expression. He then casually, subtly lifted his wrist to show off the flower bracelet resting there.
Riersha’s eyes went wide.
It had never once occurred to her that Arcmund would actually wear it.
“Then that will be this grandfather’s second gift.”
Pernoa pulled a sour expression.
Every time he caught sight of that flower bracelet, he couldn’t help feeling like he’d lost some invisible contest.
“What is that?”
Ricador, seeing the bracelet for the first time, asked.
“Your sister made it for me. There is only one like it in the entire world. It is not the same as something you can simply buy with money.”
Arcmund explained this at considerable length, his expression grave and dignified.
“Only one in the world?”
“Why does Grandfather have something like that…?”
Riscal and Ricador murmured in turn.
And not only that — it was said to have a different kind of value than anything money could buy.
The two boys, who had grown up wanting for nothing and purchasing whatever they pleased, stared at the flower bracelet as though it held some secret.
“Well then. I’ll see you all when you return. No mischief — behave yourselves. Ricador, Riscal.”
“Yes, Father.”
Both boys answered at the same moment, and Pernoa let out a quiet, amused breath.
Hineigh!
The horse whinnied.
It was the coachman’s signal that he was ready to go.
The wheels of the carriage began to turn.
