FSW Chapter 19

News

Spring had come and gone as flowers bloomed and faded in succession—blossoms giving way to green leaves and green leaves to the weight of summer heat. By the time Nishina's training uniform had grown considerably thinner to match the warming weather, she had finally managed to complete five laps.

It was the result of diligent training without cutting corners. She'd been so delighted that she'd grabbed Joy and Ellis and spent the entire day boasting that tomorrow she'd begin proper sword training. By the time she went to bed, she was contentedly fantasizing about cutting an impressive figure, crossing blades with her instructor as equals.

However, such hollow expectations were mercilessly shattered the next day. The rough wooden sword she received was plain and, more importantly, incredibly heavy. Compared to the iron swords the knights used, it would be as light as paper. But for Nishina, who had Hilton carry even her books, it was an unbearable weight.

Moreover, even now, more than a week after she'd started, the only move Nishina had learned was the downward strike. Having finished her physical training as usual, Nishina raised the wooden sword weakly. The familiar heaviness pressed against her wrist.

"Today we'll only repeat it one hundred times."

"...Yees."

She barely managed to deflate her cheeks, which had puffed with complaint. Just as she was about to lift the gripped sword, he suddenly pointed something out.

"Your Highness, when gripping the sword, your right hand should tilt at more than a right angle."

"Like this?"

She tried to imitate exactly how he held his sword, but his head refused to nod. Watching her fumble for a while, Lavis finally reached out his hand directly.

"Pardon me for a moment."

His matter-of-fact touch adjusted the width between her fingers just right.

Come to think of it, there had been a similar situation on the first day he taught her the sword. The hand that had touched her then had been just as warm as now. She remembered being more surprised because she'd imagined it would be cold.

"Sir Russell, your hands are very warm."

When she said that with an absentminded smile, his hand had jerked away as if burned. And how red his ears had turned. You'd think he'd be used to it by now. Even as she thought that, she also thought it was cute, so not entirely bad.

Nishina stared down at her captured hand—just like that day. In the end, she kept her mouth shut. If she said the same thing, she'd surely get the same reaction. Instead of teasing him, she decided to focus on swinging her sword earnestly.

If it meant escaping the hell of downward strikes, she could swallow her playfulness hundreds of times over. Had she reached about halfway to her goal? Seeing Nishina's sword tip waver, he was the first to suggest a break.

"Would you like to rest for a moment?"

"That would be good."

Her arms had already lost all feeling. Letting the wooden sword dangle carelessly, Nishina trudged over to crawl under the tree. Thank goodness she'd laid out a mat beforehand—otherwise she would have just collapsed onto the bare ground. Having long since given dignity to the dogs, Nishina sprawled out on the ground.

In contrast, Lavis showed not a trace of fatigue, as if he'd just started training. He'd finished morning training and even trained alongside her besides! Every time she witnessed such a stark difference in stamina, she felt doubtful. At this rate, would she even get to cross swords with him once before she died?

"When do you think I'll be able to spar with you?"

"...Spar?"

As if it were a question he'd never considered, his eyes widened. Then his face grew very serious as he sank into thought.

After a long silence, he answered.

"At this pace... thirty years from now?"

...And that's assuming he doesn't grow at all during that time.

Her motivation drained at an astonishing speed. To begin with, techniques for hurting others didn't suit her constitution.

'Should I just be satisfied with whatever muscle I've gained?'

She kneaded her arm with hands that had not a speck of strength. It seemed like she'd gained a bit more muscle, or maybe not—it was ambiguous. On top of that, Joy had been making a fuss lately about the calluses that seemed to be forming on her palms. Even her mother had made a tearful face, asking if she couldn't just quit right away.

She'd barely managed to persuade them by emphasizing how important an hour of daily exercise was for health, but it saddened her a little that she was the only one who welcomed her own training.

Thinking about it, even she should have found it unwelcome. After all, the original purpose of training had been 'to earn sympathy.'

But from the very beginning things had gone oddly askew, and she'd completely forgotten her original purpose—instead, she'd come to wish for his happiness. If he'd been as cruel as she'd imagined, or if she hadn't known his past, she might have tried to earn sympathy. But he was an unfailingly kind person despite growing up without kindness. From the moment she realized that, Nishina had begun to think she hoped he could smile.

Spending these months consistently together, she now purely enjoyed the time she spent with him. When she offered him an amande chocolat, he settled beside her cautiously and lowered his eyes gently as he ate with obvious pleasure.

Resting her chin on her knees, she watched him intently. In what could be called a peaceful scene, watching him made her suddenly wonder.

'Has Sir Russell grown as comfortable with me as I have with him?'

He was so busy with training that he might find meetings with her bothersome, but she hoped he at least considered it somewhat comfortable time. If she could be a brief respite in his intense life, she thought she'd be quite happy.

Perhaps feeling her heated gaze, his head tilted slightly. Unable to drop his eyes, his cheeks finally flushed as he hesitantly parted his lips.

"...Your Highness?"

"Please spar with me in thirty years."

'So let's both still be alive in thirty years.'

At her absurd words spoken with vague hope, his eyes blinked slowly. Then eventually he nodded with a serious face.

"Yes."

Looking like a knight who'd just received a duel challenge, Nishina finally laughed aloud. Truly, it was a peaceful summer day.

The weather had grown properly hot. The sunlight pouring through the open window was now at a stinging level. Picking up a glass beaded with water droplets, Nishina emptied half the cold lemon tea. The ice had melted halfway so it was a bit watered down, but the freshness of the freshly-squeezed lemon juice remained intact.

'Lemon tea in summer, after all.'

She felt as if both the heat and drowsiness had swept away completely.

Soon, setting down the glass that held only ice, Nishina glanced to check the time. The hour when the sun burned hottest—normally she'd be attending afternoon lessons or going to training. But today's lessons had all finished in the morning, and she happened to have no training either. The reason for the break in training, which she'd continued quite diligently, wasn't the warmer weather but Sir Russell's personal circumstances.

At the end of yesterday's training, Sir Russell had conveyed with an extremely apologetic face that 'I don't think I can make time tomorrow.' He'd looked so sorry, so thoroughly gloomy, that she'd hurriedly nodded without even the chance to press for reasons.

'Though maybe I should have asked subtly.'

Now, belatedly, she was curious about the reason. During these months of training, this was the first time Sir Russell had been absent. Tapping the desk with her fingers, Nishina reached for the stack of letters piled on one side.

With this sudden free time, she'd thought to check the letters she'd been putting off. Even though Ellis and Joy had already sorted them, the volume was tremendous. Half were new tea party invitations, half were letters from the young ladies who'd attended the last tea party.

From among the colorful letters, she picked up Lady Laurent's first. The bright yellow envelope resembled her brilliant golden hair. Nishina thought the round handwriting suited her very well.

Filling an entire page was nothing but content about how much she'd loved the tea she'd received as a gift, how she'd actually been very nervous but had such an enjoyable time. Usually, young ladies eager to build connections with Nishina would seize the opportunity of being invited to a tea party to send invitations disguised as thank-you letters.

Saying that since the last tea party had been so wonderful, they wanted to return the favor this time. But Lady Laurent's letter ended simply with genuine thanks. Perhaps that was why. Though the letter's content was nothing special, it felt sincere. It read like heartfelt gratitude rather than formulaic thanks.

It might be a leap, but remembering that cheerful face, such an interpretation wasn't unreasonable.

Perhaps because of that, Nishina wielded her pen with pleasure rather than obligation. As if she were truly exchanging letters with a friend.

After carefully sealing the letter, which was longer than before, she quickly checked the other letters. As Nishina had guessed, most were no different from invitations. After copying out politely declining content several times over, her hand had gone completely numb.

Just as Nishina's motivation was crawling underground, this time a small parcel appeared. With an ominous-looking red letter enclosed.

'This feels foreboding.'

The sender was none other than the young lady who'd so fervently praised Madame Puresa. After content similar to the other letters, there was the postscript she'd dreaded.

P.S. You seemed interested, so I'm sending along Madame Puresa's new work.

'When did I ever show interest?!'

Her mouth fell open with the injustice of it.

The one who'd listened with fascinated "ooh"s to their stories hadn't been her but Lady Orsini. She too had seemed quite intrigued, giving looks suggesting it was her first encounter with such(?) books, just like Nishina.

'But I was only watching the knights' reactions nervously!'

The parcel she opened, filled with anxiety, was indeed a book.

'The cover looks quite proper, but inside is that sort of story, is it.'

Honestly, she wasn't entirely without curiosity, but more than that, it was difficult to deal with.

She couldn't leave this in the imperial library. But if she put it in her personal study, who knew what misunderstandings the maids or Hilton might form. It was already hard enough to see Sir Hilton's face lately. If another misunderstanding arose now, he'd probably become convinced it was fact.

Speak of the tiger and it appears—through the silently opened door, Hilton appeared. The moment she saw him taking over from the knight who'd been on guard in the room, Nishina stuffed the book into the far corner of a drawer at tremendous speed.

Her heart pounded as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. Ignoring the cold sweat running down her spine, Nishina asked Hilton, feigning composure.

"You seem very busy lately—is something going on?"

"Ah, that, I apologize. I've been helping evaluate the apprentices in place of Sir Richard, who left the palace briefly..."

"Evaluation?"

"Yes, though calling it evaluation—it's just the usual sparring, done properly in front of the knights."

"Sir Russell didn't say a single word about... no, when did this even start..."

"From last week."

Hilton answered lightly and added explanations—that it was usually held in early summer, conducted tournament-style—but Nishina couldn't hear any of it.

Because she was only now learning of the tournament's existence.