Chapter 1 - Now That a Prince Has Been Born, I Don’t Have to Hold Back Anymore, Do I?
"Congratulations, Your Majesty. This time, at long last, you have been blessed with a true prince."
Beyond the door, the midwife was crying.
I stopped my hand just as I was about to reach for the door to my mother's bedchamber. The spring breeze drifting in through the hallway window scattered flower petals across the shoulders of my white uniform. At my chest, the silver lion—the emblem of the crown prince—gleamed coldly.
"A boy? He really is a boy, then?"
"Yes. A healthy baby boy, Your Majesty."
My father's voice trembled. The laughter that followed was brighter than anything I had heard from him in my eighteen years of life.
A boy had been born into the royal family of the Kingdom of Alveria.
Officially, this would be the birth of the Second Prince. But to those gathered behind this door, it was the first boy born into the royal family in forty-six years—not since my father himself had been born.
I was Elias, the First Prince of the Kingdom.
And I was also Eliana, the Second Princess, whose name had been taken from me on the morning of my birth.
"Prince Elias?"
A voice called to me from behind, and I lowered my hand. A young knight holding a bouquet was looking at me curiously. He had chestnut-brown hair and slightly drooping brown eyes. It was Luca, my personal attendant.
"Aren't you going in?"
"I am. Thank you for the flowers."
"You ordered so many that the lady at the flower shop asked if you were planning to propose to someone."
"I have no particular interest in proposing to my little brother."
Luca laughed, and I let a smile spread across my own face. Still smiling, I knocked on the door. When I entered after receiving permission, I was greeted by the warm, humid scent of milk mingled with medicinal herbs.
The lightstones in the ceiling shone like stars in broad daylight, bathing the bed in a golden glow. The first time I saw this magical light, I had mistaken it for the lighting in a hospital.
It was that same white light I had gazed up at near the end of my previous life.
Before being born into this world, I had lived in a country called Japan. I had been a perfectly ordinary twenty-seven-year-old woman working for a company. I had nothing to do with swords or magic, and I was always taking on other people's work, often with a piece of bread in one hand as I ate my lunch.
Someday, I had told myself, I would travel to a town overlooking the sea. The blue suitcase I had bought for that trip never once left my closet. Even in the hospital, I had worried about handing over my work properly. I think the last words I ever spoke were, "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble."
So when I awoke in the body of a baby, I made a wish.
This time, I would go wherever I wanted on my own two feet. I would eat whatever I wanted while it was still warm.
But when my father picked me up, he grimaced.
"Another girl?"
I remembered that voice. I remembered how my mother closed her eyes.
In this kingdom, only men could inherit the throne. My father had no younger brothers, and all the children born to his uncles had been girls as well. My elder sister had already been presented to the public as the First Princess. It was too late to pass her off as a boy.
Then there was the second daughter, whom no one had seen yet.
No one could stop the decision made over my infant head. The midwife and royal physician kept their mouths shut, and my father announced before the temple that he had been blessed with a prince.
The first words I was taught were neither "Father" nor "Mother."
They were "boku"—the word I was to use to refer to myself.
[Translator’s Note: Japanese first-person pronoun meaning "I" or "me", primarily used by males.]
"What are you spacing out for, Elias?"
Called by my father, I knelt before the bed. A tiny baby rested in my mother's arms. His cheeks were red, his eyelids delicate, and his fingernails smaller than fragments of a seashell.
"Congratulations, Father, Mother."
"His name shall be Leon. He will grow into a mighty king."
"...Yes. I'm sure he will."
He would become king.
My father bestowed upon the sleeping baby the very words he had repeated to me countless times. He never once glanced at the silver lion on my chest.
"May I hold him?"
My mother looked at my father. After a brief pause, the baby, wrapped in a white blanket, was placed in my arms.
My little brother was astonishingly light. And yet, with every breath he took, it felt as though an entire world rose and fell in my arms. I gently offered him my index finger, and his tiny hand closed around it.
He was warm. Fragile, helpless, and undeniably alive.
"Welcome to the world, Leon."
I wasn't lying. I was happy that this child had been born, too. After all, my little brother hadn't chosen to be a boy, any more than he had chosen to be born into the royal family.
I hoped he would cry whenever he was hungry. If something upset him, I wanted him to kick and wave his arms, making it clear that he didn't like it.
Before becoming the prince everyone wanted him to be, I wanted him to sleep as much as he liked and grow up at his own pace.
"That will do. You may leave."
My father took my little brother from my arms. With nothing left to hold, I folded my hands neatly in my lap.
"Tonight's celebration will be limited to those closest to us. You are to prepare for tomorrow's ceremony."
My elder sister, Celestia, was also standing beside the bed. Dressed in a pale blue gown, she peered down at our little brother with a face that closely resembled our mother's.
Apparently, I wasn't one of those closest to them.
"Understood."
As I stood, a flower petal fell from my shoulder. It landed on the white marble, flipping over like a butterfly just before being crushed underfoot.
When I closed the door, Luca, who had been waiting in the hallway, straightened up.
"Did you get to see him?"
"Yes. He was so tiny."
"Well, he is a baby."
"...That's right. A baby."
As we began to walk, celebratory bells rang outside the window. White doves took flight from the rooftops of the town below the castle, while beyond them, an enormous skyfish the size of a freight wagon swam slowly through the air.
I couldn't yet tell whether the bells reverberating through the spring sky were urging me forward or announcing the end of something.
◇◆◇
A month after my little brother was born, I was moved to a room in the West Tower.
It was a room with little sunlight. Old water stains marred the wallpaper, and when I touched the window frame, the paint crumbled into white powder beneath my fingers. I couldn't even see the fountain in the courtyard. The only things visible from my window were the gray rear gate and the roof of the laundry area.
The hours set aside for studying my father's duties vanished from my schedule. Documents for military councils stopped arriving, and I was told I would have to obtain special permission just to use the sword-training grounds.
The ministers I passed in the hall began looking past me before they even looked at my face. Whenever the new prince's wet nurse passed by, they would cut their greetings to me short and hurry over to her instead.
A baby who couldn't even hold his head up yet bore no responsibility for any of this. Those tiny hands hadn't taken away my schedule or the key to my room.
The ones doing all that were the adults.
The last time I'd been invited to dine with my family was three days ago. At the table, which could comfortably seat ten, my plate had been placed apart from everyone else's at the very end.
"If what's binding your chest feels too tight, why not take it off in your room?"
After the meal, once everyone other than our family had left, my elder sister said that. She'd noticed me slipping my fingers beneath the collar around my neck.
"If a maid catches me doing that, I'll be the one who gets scolded."
"Then endure it. You've managed to do so until now, haven't you?"
My sister dropped sugar into her tea and stirred it with a silver spoon. Tiny ripples formed one after another, then disappeared.
"Sister, how much longer am I going to remain a prince?"
"Ask Father about such things."
"If I become a girl again, will I still be allowed to stay here?"
The spoon stopped moving.
"What are you talking about at this point? It was because you were a prince that I was spared being pressured to produce an heir as soon as possible."
Mother continued embroidering in her lap. She was making clothes for my little brother. Her needle moved back and forth through the fabric, but she never once looked at me.
When I fell silent, tea time continued as though nothing had happened.
There was tea on the desk in the West Tower now, too. It had gone completely cold, and a thin film had formed on its surface. When I took a sip, all that remained on my tongue was a bitter, astringent taste.
I set down the cup and reread the single sheet of paper that had arrived that morning.
Its title read, "Regarding His Royal Highness the Crown Prince's Recuperation."
At noon tomorrow, I was to return the crown prince's seal to my father. Afterward, I was to relocate to the Northern Villa. All correspondence would be subject to inspection, and I would only be permitted to meet with those granted the king's approval.
There was no mention of when my recuperation would end.
There were two knocks at the door, and Luca peeked inside.
"Are you still awake, Your Highness?"
"If I weren't awake, then I suppose I'd have just woken up."
"Sorry about that. And how is your stomach?"
"That one's been awake for quite some time."
When he entered, the scent of honey drifted into the chilly room. He reached inside his cloak and pulled out a paper package. There were two round rolls inside, their surfaces sprinkled with crushed nuts. Steam still rose from them.
"Your dinner tray hadn't been brought up, so I managed to get to the shop in front of the gate in time."
"You bought them with your own money again?"
"Let's just say I'm sharing half of my dinner with you."
I took one of the rolls. Its warmth seeped into my fingertips. When I bit into it, the thin crust broke with a crisp crack, and the melted honey spread across my tongue.
Perhaps even in my previous life, all I'd really needed was to sit somewhere like this and eat freshly baked bread.
"Have a seat. It's hard to eat with you standing there."
"Then, if you'll excuse me."
Luca checked the wobbly leg of the chair before sitting down. As he moved closer, I caught the scent of leather and beeswax from his sleeve. The son of a shoemaker, he'd always enjoyed maintaining his own leather gear, even after becoming a knight.
He had learned my secret a year ago.
On our way back from an inspection, a bridge along the river collapsed. I used my mana to steady myself and pushed a carriage that was about to be swept away back toward the riverbank, but a broken plank grazed my side.
It was a minor wound. But if the bleeding didn't stop, I'd have to take off my clothes in front of other people.
I insisted that I could hold out until we reached the royal palace, where the royal physician was waiting, but Luca shook his head. Despite having only recently become a knight, he openly defied the crown prince, telling me that he couldn't just leave the bleeding unattended.
In a voice so quiet it was nearly drowned out by the river, I told him the truth.
"I'm a girl."
He opened his mouth, then hurriedly shut it again. After handing me his cloak, he stood beside the carriage, shielding me from the road.
"I'll leave the bandages here. Just call me if there's a spot you can't reach."
I thought he'd tell my father as soon as we returned. Perhaps, as a reward for uncovering my secret, he would be transferred to serve a more prestigious master.
But the next morning, Luca knocked on my door as usual. When he draped my cloak over my shoulders, he was careful to avoid the side where I was wounded.
For the entire year that followed, he kept my secret and stayed by my side.
"You can read it."
I pushed the paper toward him, and Luca's eyes followed the lines of text. When he finished reading, he quietly wrapped up the remaining bread.
"So they're going to claim you're ill?"
"Apparently. The Northern Villa is cold. Even in summer, you'd need a fireplace."
"I'll ask for permission to accompany you."
"I don't think they'll allow it. Look at the bottom."
At the bottom of the document, it stated that all my current attendants were to be relieved of their duties. Luca read it again, then placed both hands on his knees.
"What is it that you want to do, Your Highness?"
I stared at the bread that remained.
How could I convince my father? How should I behave to avoid troubling my mother? I'd answered questions like those countless times before.
But neither the laws of the kingdom nor any book on etiquette could tell me how to answer the question he'd just asked.
"I don't know yet."
"Understood."
"But I don't want to go somewhere cold."
Once I'd said it aloud, the wish seemed terribly small. Facing an order that threatened to lock away eighteen years of my life, was that really all I had to say? I almost found it funny myself.
Luca didn't laugh.
"Then I don't think you need to prepare to go there."
Something that had hardened deep in my chest developed a tiny crack.
I finished the rest of the bread. After wiping the honey from my fingers, I took an old leather-bound notebook out of my desk drawer. A tiny blue flower, pressed between its pages, slipped out.
It was something a man known as the world's strongest hero had practically shoved into my hands at the end of six years of training.
"Is that a secret sword manual?"
"No. It's about things like how to avoid getting sick while traveling and how to tell a decent cheap inn from a bad one."
"...The hero himself wrote that?"
"He said those were the most important things, so I mustn't forget them."
When I opened the notebook, bold, rough handwriting leaped out at me. The paper still carried a scent reminiscent of smoke from a campfire.
I remembered the day I'd crossed swords with that man for the last time.
◇◆◇
My final training session had been last summer.
In the woods behind the royal palace, sunlight filtering through the leaves danced across the ground. The earth was soft after the rain, and every time I shifted my feet, the fresh scent of green grass rose into the air.
"Too slow."
Master Severan's wooden sword tapped me lightly on the forehead. It didn't hurt, but the sound it made was humiliating.
"I thought I'd dodged that one."
"Don't make a face like you're about to dodge before you actually do it."
"My face?"
"Your face. Your shoulders. Your feet. Every damn part of you gives you away."
With his gray hair tied back with a cord and his unshaven face, my master looked like a middle-aged man you'd find sitting in the corner of a tavern. If no one had introduced him as the strongest hero in human history, I would probably have assumed he was someone delivering alcohol to the royal palace.
I had first met him in the spring when I was eleven. After he was invited to a banquet at the royal palace, I chased after him and begged him to teach me how to use a sword.
Back then, just as in my previous life, I couldn't bring myself to refuse requests. I believed that if I made myself useful as a prince, someday my father might be glad I was here. That was what I had hoped for.
My father had agreed to let him train me, thinking it would make me look more impressive as a prince. However, he had laid down several strict conditions: no serious injuries, and no humiliating me in front of other people.
My master had nodded obediently in front of my father.
Then, during our very first training session, he sent me tumbling into the mud.
"Embarrassed yourself yet?"
"...Yes."
"Good. Now all you have to do is get stronger."
For the next six years, whenever my master returned to the royal capital, I went to these woods to train with him. He corrected my footwork, drilled the proper way to channel mana into me, and sent me sprawling across the fallen leaves time and time again.
On the days my father came to watch, we always practiced something different. I straightened my posture and repeated the prescribed forms. My father would be satisfied before long and leave.
"Even a girl can be made to look presentable."
I heard him say that once as he was leaving. My master said nothing. Only after my father's figure had disappeared did he toss me a wooden sword.
That day, we crossed swords until darkness fell.
"Give me your wooden sword."
That summer, my master took the sword from my hand and ran his fingers along its edge. It was an oak practice sword covered in numerous old scars, one I had borrowed from him at every training session.
"Does this thing lose to steel because it's made of wood?"
"Because I'm not channeling my mana through it properly."
"Good. Then go cut that."
My master gestured with his chin toward an iron post planted at the edge of the woods. It was thicker than my arm. It was a practice target, and one that had broken my wooden swords countless times before.
I adjusted my grip on the sword. I focused on my breathing, from my fingers to my palm, from my wrist to my elbow.
If I forced my mana into the wood with brute strength, it would split from the inside. Instead, I guided the mana along the grain, just as my master had taught me. The sword gradually absorbed my mana, like a dry branch soaking up water.
"Watch your opponent, too."
A defensive spell had been engraved into the iron post. A thin glow flowed across its surface. The current looked smooth, but at one spot near the base, it was slightly disrupted.
I aligned the tip of my sword with that disruption.
The sound was quiet. It might even have felt less substantial than slicing through the crust of a loaf of bread. The upper half of the post slid diagonally away and, a moment later, plunged into the earth.
"I did it..."
"You've been at this for six years. If you couldn't do it by now, it'd mean I was a lousy teacher."
My master seized my wooden sword and struck it with his own. For the first time, I heard a sound like the air itself being torn apart.
Mud splashed around my feet. The arm I used to block the blow went numb, and my breath caught in my throat. Even so, my wooden sword didn't break. I read the direction of the force pressing against me and shifted half a step to the side. My master's blade swept past my shoulder.
The tip of my sword was resting against his chest.
"...Oh."
"Work on that stupid look on your face."
My master laughed and ruffled my hair roughly. Mud smeared across my neatly trimmed short hair, but I didn't feel like brushing it off.
When our training ended, we sat together on a rock in the woods. The tomato my master pulled out of his bag was lukewarm and slightly squashed. When I bit into it, its tartness spread through my mouth, and juice trickled down my chin.
"I'm crossing the sea next month."
"When will you return?"
"Haven't decided. I'll come back when I feel like it."
I held the half-eaten tomato in both hands. To my master, deciding for himself when to return was simply a matter of course.
"I'm still not good enough to be a prince."
"Did your father tell you that?"
"...Many times."
"If he's talking about your swordsmanship, he's wrong."
My master tossed the leather-bound notebook onto my lap. Then he placed the well-worn wooden sword on top of it.
"Take them. They're both yours now."
"But this is your sword, Master."
"It's your sword now. Don't treasure it too much. If it breaks, just make another one."
When I opened the cover, I found a sentence written in large letters on the first page: Never make an important decision on an empty stomach.
When I laughed, my master popped the last piece of tomato into his mouth.
"Your sword won't decide where you go."
"Yes."
"You decide where you want to go. If someone tries to stand in your way, remember today's lesson."
Leaves rustled overhead. Beyond the woods, I could see the spires of the royal palace, and beyond them stretched a blue sky I had never known.
At the time, all I could say was, "Thank you."
But I made sure to put away both the notebook and the wooden sword with my own hands, where no one could take them away from me.
◇◆◇
The following morning, I prepared to leave on a journey.
Two changes of clothes. The pocket money I'd saved myself and my master's notebook. Once I tucked the oak practice sword into my belt, everything else I wanted to take fit into a small shoulder bag.
Standing before the mirror, I unwound the cloth I'd been binding around my chest. When I took a deep breath, it felt as though the air was reaching parts of me that hadn't moved freely in a long time.
I left my white uniform on the chair. In its place, I put on a thick shirt I'd worn on long horseback rides in the past, then pulled on a dark navy jacket. It had no embellishments and allowed me to move my shoulders freely. I fastened only the silver lion to its collar.
I left my short silver hair and well-worn riding boots as they were. I liked the feeling of the wind blowing through my hair, and I hadn't come to hate the person I was when I wielded a sword.
Around the time the noon bells rang, I entered the small audience chamber reserved for the royal family.
My father sat in a tall chair, while my mother soothed my little brother a short distance away. My elder sister, the prime minister, and the royal physician were there as well. Only those who knew the truth about my birth had gathered in the room.
Luca had been left outside the door. The Prime Minister had informed him that, as of this morning, he was no longer my attendant.
"What are you wearing?"
My father looked me up and down, from my collar to my riding boots.
"I'm preparing to leave."
"You'll have maids attending you at the villa. There's no need to keep dressing as a man."
"Because I won't be allowed to appear in public, is that it?"
My father didn't answer. Instead, he tapped his fingers against the desk.
I removed the silver lion from my chest and placed it beside the crown prince's seal. They struck the stone tabletop with a sharp, dry click.
I received this lion for the first time when I was seven. My father had patted me on the shoulder and told me it suited me. That night, I'd even troubled the maids by insisting I wanted to sleep with it on.
Now that I'd taken it off, all that remained were two tiny holes in my jacket.
"As of today, I relinquish my position as crown prince. I seek neither the throne nor any lands."
"Good. If that was your intention from the beginning, this makes things much simpler."
My father drew the seal toward himself. Eighteen years of my life were swept aside with a single movement of his finger.
"You will want for nothing at the villa. You, too, will finally be freed from the duties of a prince."
"Will I be allowed to go out?"
"Have whatever you need brought to you."
"What about meeting other people?"
"Anyone I authorize, certainly."
"So I won't be able to see the people I want to see."
My father's fingers stopped tapping.
"Don't you understand? If people discover that you're a woman, it will mean the royal family has deceived the entire kingdom. We won't be able to explain ourselves to the temple or the nobles."
"The royal family, you say?"
"This is for the sake of the kingdom. Learn to endure a little hardship."
The word little rang painfully clear in my ears.
Not crying. Not letting my voice grow high. Not speaking up even when my chest hurt. Not approaching someone even if I fell in love with them.
Everything I'd been forced to endure since birth still amounted to only a little hardship in my father's eyes.
"Father, you ordered me to be a prince because the royal family had no sons."
"That's right. I do regret having placed such a burden on you."
"Now you have Leon."
In my mother's arms, my little brother gave a tiny sneeze. She adjusted his blanket and gently stroked his cheek with her fingertips. I looked at my brother, then turned back to my father.
"Then I don't have to keep enduring this anymore, do I?"
My father furrowed his brow. My sister glanced at the bag by my feet.
"I won't go to the Northern Villa. I'm leaving the royal palace."
"What are you talking about?"
"Because you needed a prince, you forced me to stop being a daughter. Now that a prince has been born, you're telling me to give up even seeing other people. That's too much."
My voice came out strangely calm. I'd thought I would either shout or burst into tears. But the small wish I'd voiced in front of Luca last night was keeping me steady.
I don't want to go somewhere cold.
I wanted to be the one who decided that for myself.
"How selfish. Who do you think raised you all these years?"
"I am grateful for everything you've done to raise me."
"Then why won't you obey?"
"Even if I'm grateful, I can still refuse to do something I hate."
My sister snapped her fan shut.
"What do you intend to do out there? No one will provide you with food or a place to sleep."
"I'll find them myself."
"You couldn't possibly manage that."
"If I can't, I'll learn."
After answering, I smiled a little. I hadn't been able to do anything when I first picked up a sword, either. In my previous life, I'd ridden trains, rented an apartment, and held down a job. There were plenty of things I didn't know, but I could start by learning.
"Elias."
At last, my mother called my name.
"If you make a scene, you'll wake Leon."
I pressed my lips together and nodded. It took me a moment to look away from her.
"...If you'll excuse me."
I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed for the door. Just as I was about to push it open, my father's voice struck me from behind.
"Someone! Stop Elias!"
Two royal guards entered from either side of the door. I could see Luca standing behind them. He started to say something, but before he could speak, one of the knights reached for my arm.
"Your Highness. Please return quietly to your room."
Before he could grab my wrist, I shifted half a step to the side. I pulled his outstretched arm and redirected it into the path of the other knight. When their feet tangled, I gave them a push from behind.
Their armor collided with a heavy clang. Before either could fall, I caught one by the collar and guided them both down to sit against the wall.
"Sorry. Coming through."
Luca's eyes widened. As I passed him, I heard my father scrape his chair back.
"Close the gates! Don't let that wretch leave the palace!"
Soldiers broke into a run at the far end of the hallway. I adjusted my bag and headed for the stairs.
◇◆◇
A line of spears awaited me at the foot of the grand staircase.
Eight royal guards blocked the exit to the front courtyard. Between the white stone pillars, their polished spearheads were aligned at precisely the same height. It was an impressive formation, one I'd watched with admiration since childhood, always finding it reassuring.
Today, those spears were pointed at me.
"Please return to your quarters, Your Highness."
The captain stepped forward. He was a knight who had sparred with me several times on the training grounds.
"I have no intention of returning."
"Those are His Majesty's orders."
"I heard you. And I'm asking you to let me pass anyway."
The captain's gaze dropped to my waist.
"What do you intend to do with that toy?"
I drew my wooden sword. Its worn grip settled into my palm. I knew the feel of it, soaked in six years of sweat, far better than I had ever known the crown prince's seal.
"I'll get through without hurting you as much as possible."
The captain swept his arm outward. The spearheads moved in unison. Some aimed for my chest and shoulders, while others blocked off possible escape routes. Their movements, no doubt practiced hundreds of times during training, were flawless and decisive.
I exhaled and pushed the first spear aside with the flat of my wooden sword.
The deflected spearhead struck the shaft beside it. Using the point where the two weapons crossed as a pivot, I slipped between the knights. I shoved shoulders, swept legs out from under knees, and redirected falling bodies so they wouldn't crash into the stone pillars.
By the time all eight spears had clattered to the floor, the captain hadn't even finished drawing his sword.
"Wha—?!"
I cut through the sword he'd finally managed to draw, severing it at the base. The steel blade spun as it fell. I slipped my wooden sword beneath it, caught it, and gently laid it on the floor.
"Be careful not to step on it. You could hurt yourself."
The captain stared at the hilt left in his hand, then looked at me. I bowed my head and walked past him.
The sunlight was dazzling when I stepped into the front courtyard. Beyond the flowerbeds of white roses, I could see the palace's main gate. Its doors had already been shut, and a thick iron crossbar had been secured across them.
"Elias!"
My father and the prime minister appeared in the second-floor gallery. Gripping the railing, my father looked down at the royal guards sprawled across the courtyard.
"There's no need to hold back! I don't care if he's injured! Capture him!"
More knights arrived from the corridors on either side. Behind them, a court mage raised his staff. As the stone at its tip glowed blue, thin streaks of light raced across the paving stones.
A cold sensation coiled around my ankle. It was a chain made of mana. Two more chains extended through the air, aiming for my wrists.
I pulled back my right foot and touched the chain with my wooden sword. Within the blue light, tiny particles were flowing in the same direction.
I'd seen a similar current in the iron post in the woods.
I channeled mana through the tip of my sword into the spot where the currents converged and wavered ever so slightly. The chains didn't snap apart. Instead, they unraveled and vanished like thin ice in spring.
"The spell... It vanished?"
The mage examined his staff again. While he was distracted, I headed for the main gate.
A knight sprang out from the bushes on my right. His sword came swinging down toward my shoulder. Just as I turned to deflect the blow, another figure suddenly stepped between us.
"Stop!"
It was Luca.
The crossed swords rang out sharply. Luca's blade snapped halfway down, and the broken hilt spun across the paving stones. Before his opponent could press forward with another attack, I used my wooden sword to force his arm upward and gave his breastplate a light thrust.
The knight toppled over the edge of the flowerbed and landed on his backside in the dirt.
"Luca, your hand—"
"I can move it. It's just a little numb."
"Don't do anything reckless."
He opened and closed his right hand. Only after confirming that his fingers still moved did he finally let out a breath. Sweat glistened on his forehead from his sprint down the stairs.
"You'll be disobeying orders, too. If you stay here, there's still time to turn back."
"Stay here and help these people capture you?"
I couldn't answer.
Luca lowered his still-trembling right hand to his side. Then he looked up at my father in the gallery.
"I cannot obey an order to imprison him."
The courtyard fell silent. The only sound that remained was the strangely distinct splash of water falling into the fountain.
"You'll lose your status as a knight."
"Yes."
"You'll never be allowed to serve in this palace again."
"...Yes."
His second answer was quieter than the first. Even so, Luca didn't bow his head.
I brushed the dirt off his sleeve. It was the only excuse I could think of to touch him just then.
"Stay behind me for a little while."
At the far end of the gallery, I spotted soldiers raising their crossbows. The sound of strings being drawn rang out, and my father thrust his arm toward us.
"Aim for his legs!"
I stepped in front of Luca and channeled mana into my wooden sword.
The released bolts glinted in the sunlight. I swung my sword in one sweeping motion. The mana I'd guided along its edge transformed into wind and swept across the courtyard.
The bolts were flung upward, embedding themselves high in the stone pillars. Then the strings of the soldiers' crossbows snapped one after another. Someone's hat was swept away by the wind and landed in the fountain.
I lowered my sword. My fingers fit perfectly over the old scars in its grip.
"Father. I wish you'd watched one of my training sessions to the very end, just once. Then you might have seen what my master was teaching me."
My father stood frozen, his mouth hanging open.
I walked up to the main gate. A protective spell had been cast on the iron crossbar. Following the light flowing across its surface, I found a narrow gap beneath the fastening where the currents connected.
I touched the crossbar with my wooden sword. The magic unraveled, and a moment later, the iron itself split apart.
I caught the crossbar with my left hand before it could slide to the ground, then lowered it carefully. Once I reinforced my arm with mana, the task was far easier than pushing that carriage back from the riverbank had been.
When I pushed open the double gates, their old hinges groaned. The bustle of the town below the castle flowed through the opening, along with the smell of freshly baked bread and the breeze blowing in from the river.
"Stop, Elias! I said, wait!"
I turned halfway around.
"I've waited eighteen years."
My father's face was deep within the gallery, far from the sunlight. I'd always had to look up at him, yet today he seemed so distant and small.
"Please ask Leon what he likes."
With those words, I walked through the gate.
Without waiting for anyone's permission, I stepped beyond the threshold.
◇◆◇
The road leading downhill from the royal palace to the town was steeper than I'd expected.
I'd always traveled this road by carriage, so I'd never noticed the little violets blooming along its edges or the sound of water trickling through gaps in the stone walls.
At the bottom of the slope, red rooftops overlapped one another. Smoke from lunchtime cooking rose from the chimneys, and boats with their sails furled lined the river. In the distance, a skyfish cast a vast shadow over the buildings as it drifted past.
I tightened the laces of my riding boots and started walking.
The eighteen years I'd spent in the royal palace seemed to sway inside my little bag. I couldn't carry every memory with me, but there was only so much baggage I could shoulder. This much weight digging into my shoulder was enough.
A little farther ahead, the road split in two. The path to the right seemed to lead to the market, while the one to the left followed the river. Just as I was about to take out my master's notebook, a voice called from behind me.
"Wait for meee! Your Highness!"
When I turned around, Luca was racing down the slope. He held his cloak in place with his right hand and carried the hilt of the sword that had just been broken in his left.
"How could you leave me behind? That's cruel!"
"Sorry. I thought you were right behind me."
"I was picking up my sword. It was issued equipment, so I couldn't just leave it behind... Oh, right. I'm not a knight anymore."
He looked down at what he was holding, his eyebrows drooping in dismay. I tried to smile, but halfway through, I felt a warmth rising in the back of my throat.
I looked back up at the palace gates, still standing open. No one was chasing after us. Neither my family, calling me back, nor the retainers who had once sworn loyalty to me were there.
Luca was the only one who had come this far for me.
"You really did come with me."
"Yes."
"I won't be able to pay you a salary."
"And I don't have enough money to pay you, either."
Luca caught his breath as he slipped the broken hilt into its empty scabbard. His right hand no longer trembled as he fastened the clasp.
"I'll buy my next sword with my own money. Would you teach me what kind of sword I should get?"
"Of course. I'd be happy to."
When I nodded, he smiled with visible relief.
His knight's uniform was stained with dirt from when he'd fallen. He was tall and a year older than me, yet when he smiled, he looked a little younger. I realized that I would be able to keep seeing that face from now on.
"Where will you be heading, Your Highness?"
"I'm not a prince anymore."
"Then, Lord Elias."
The familiar name fell between us.
I touched my collar. Two tiny holes remained where the silver lion had been. I traced them with my fingers, then lowered my hand.
"Eliana."
The name caught slightly on my tongue as I spoke it.
"My real name is Eliana."
Luca didn't repeat it right away. He looked at my face, then straightened his back.
"Then, Lady Eliana."
That was all.
He didn't shout in surprise or decide whether the name suited me. He simply called me by my name.
"...Yes."
The moment I answered, my vision blurred with tears. I hurriedly lowered my eyes, and Luca tilted his head first to one side, then the other.
"Um... Would you prefer that I leave out the honorific, too?"
"We can figure that out another time.”
"Of course. I'll learn, little by little."
I wiped my eyes with the back of my fingers. Since I no longer had to act like a prince, I suppose it would have been all right to cry a little longer. But now that I'd finally come somewhere bright and open, I wanted to see his face clearly.
"I want to go to the sea."
The blue suitcase I'd bought long ago for a trip I'd never taken finally opened inside my heart.
"If we follow this river downstream, we'll reach the sea, right?"
"Yes. Though it'll take several days on foot."
"We don't have to hurry. I want to eat whatever I feel like along the way and see whatever catches my eye."
Luca turned his gaze toward the river. A breeze rising from the water ruffled his chestnut-brown hair.
"I'd like to see the shoes they make in port towns."
"Shoes?"
"I've heard that sailors' shoes are designed to keep them from slipping on wet decks. I've always wondered what their soles look like."
This time, I managed to smile for real.
"Then let's go see for ourselves. Could you repair my boots along the way, too?"
"Of course. I always carry a needle and thread."
He gave the tool pouch at his waist a light pat. Then he took a step toward the road and held out his left hand to me.
"Let's go, Lady Eliana."
His hand was large. Calluses from sword practice and tiny old scars left by needles used to sew leather marked his skin. The same hand that had brought me warm bread so many times now waited for me in the spring sunshine.
I took a step toward him and breathed in deeply. I no longer had to hold anything against my throat or force my voice to sound lower.
I (boku)... No, I (watashi) took his hand. I took it as Eliana.
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