SBTMK Chapter 16

Flora didn't fully recover until a full week more of treatment had passed.

At last, Eden granted her permission to go outside. It was a shame she'd no longer see him at his set hours going forward, but that mattered far less than the fact that her body had recovered.

A knight, after all, ought to hold a sword, loose an arrow, move her own body. After weeks of an involuntary shut-in existence, she had arrived at that conclusion firmly.

On the very day her outing ban was finally lifted—a moment of no small significance—Simen showed up without warning and briskly explained the entrance examination for the imperial knight corps.

"The knight corps entrance exam is in a week. There are two parts to the test. You have to pass the first—the sparring round—before you're even qualified for the second."

"…"

"The second test takes place in a virtual dungeon built with magic—successful candidates either form a team or fight a magical beast individually. If there are a lot of passing candidates, they'll go with the team format, considering the mages' mana expenditure. If there are few, they'll go individual, to evaluate each person's ability closely."

It was so sudden that Flora fell silent for a while.

When she finally found her voice and asked why he hadn't told her sooner, Simen answered, mischievously, that if he had, it would've torn the wound right back open.

"Your body wasn't in any shape for it, before. If I'd told you sooner, you'd have gone and swung a sword no matter how it hurt you. Neither Eden nor I could've stood to watch that."

"And you had a person like that sparring? Against the captain of the guard himself, no less?"

"Hm… well, I did apologize for that already…"

At Simen's trailing, sheepish voice, Flora laughed, briefly.

The Haenkan Empire's imperial knight corps comprised the Dawn Knights—the imperial guard—along with the White Knights, the Black Knights, and the Sacred Knights.

The Dawn Knights, the imperial guard, admitted only those personally chosen by their commander, Erne. The Sacred Knights guarded the god Arzeka and their temple, and held an entirely separate entrance examination.

That left the White Knights and the Black Knights. Flora would need to prepare to sit for those two.

Her heart raced at the thought that she now stood at the very threshold of the chance to become a true "Flora of Haenkan."

As she stood there, nerves running high, Simen held something out to her.

"This is a gift."

"…Simen."

What Simen handed her was a sword. A longsword, with obsidian set into the grip—a color that matched her eyes precisely.

"Ah, no need for that touched a look. It's not an expensive one. I figured a good sword might make people suspicious, since you're about to sit a new-recruit exam, so I got something suited for cadets."

"Thank you. Simen. I'll put it to good use."

He'd said it wasn't expensive, but her judgment, as someone who had held a sword for a great many years, said otherwise. This was a finely, expertly made high-quality blade.

At first she'd hesitated over whether to accept it at all, but Flora knew her own circumstances well enough.

She had no sword to train with. She had no money to buy one.

"A maid will show you to the training grounds. Do your best."

"I'll repay you for everything you've given me, Simen. I promise."

"Passing will be repayment enough."

"Yes."

Flora looked down at the sword for a long moment. It already sat in her hand as though it recognized its owner.

Outwardly she made no fuss, but in truth the gift suited her so perfectly she couldn't tear her eyes from it.

As she turned the gifted sword this way and that, examining it, her hand suddenly stilled. A small slip of paper had been tucked between the blade and the sheath.

"What's this…?"

At Flora's puzzled look, Simen let out a small sound of realization, as if he'd only just remembered.

"Everything's ready for the exam now. You should know your own personal details, at least—go ahead and read it."

Flora unfolded the paper and read it over carefully.

[Flora. A commoner woman from the village of Evre, on Haenkan's eastern coast. No family. Application submitted for the knight corps exam under the recommendation of retired knight Icarion. Knight Icarion, formerly of the Dawn Knights, took on requests to clear monster lairs after retiring…]

The paper laid out everything she would need to live under her new identity in Haenkan.

"The exam registration schedule was too tight to come up with a new name for you. Your current one's pretty enough as it is, anyway."

"…Yes. That's fine."

In truth, the name was the thing she'd most wanted to change—a shame it hadn't worked out that way.

Still, it was a relief that the name "Flora," as it was used here, didn't sound half bad to her ear.

"Part of me wanted to grant you a title too, but then all sorts of irritating people would come crawling after you. I kept it to the bare minimum."

"Simen. This is more than enough."

"Glad you're satisfied."

"…"

"I have high expectations for you. I'm curious just how far you can push that bare minimum toward its absolute maximum."

"…"

"And I'm curious, too, what kind of faces those bastards will make when they see you."

Flora made a face that said she had no idea what he meant.

But Simen only gave an inscrutable smile, said nothing more on the subject, and changed the topic.

"Ah, if you happen to need my letter of recommendation, I could give you one, you know. It'd definitely help with passing."

Had he really just called it "help"?

A letter of recommendation from the Emperor. That wasn't help—that was overkill. The examination grounds would be turned upside down and then some.

Flora recoiled, shaking her head—God, no.

"…You might as well just hand me a sword studded with jewels while you're at it."

"Shall I?"

"…I'll decline both the letter and the sword."

Simen smiled faintly.

"If you change your mind, tell me any time."

"I'll pass for certain. Simen."

"I'll wish you luck, then."

Tap, tap. He patted her head, absent as anything, and left the room.

Only once the familiar figure that had filled her sight was gone did Flora realize she'd been standing there half in a daze.

Ever since she'd unfolded that paper, she'd been walking through something like a dream. She'd never once considered a title, not from the start.

Simply becoming, formally, a citizen of Haenkan was more than enough happiness on its own.

Flora looked down at the paper bearing her new identity for a long while.

She didn't know exactly what Simen expected of her, but Flora resolved to do more than that.

A week remained.

Separate from her confidence in passing the exam, the nerves were unavoidable.

She had more than enough confidence to clear it. Simen hadn't insisted on giving her his letter of recommendation either, which told her he wasn't especially worried.

And why would he be—she'd spent years handling a sword, loosing arrows, being knocked around on missions and battlefields.

She'd cleared more brushes with death than she could count, killed people, put down monsters.

She had "practical," "realistic" skill honed in actual combat. However outstanding the people of Haenkan might be, there was no reason she'd fall behind a new recruit who was only now preparing to enter.

'Still—I shouldn't get careless.'

At first she'd told herself she'd fallen for Simen's scheming, tried to rationalize it that way, but that wasn't really it.

During her time here, she had—dared—to want a "dream" again.

She wanted to become someone who faced things instead of looking away.

She wanted to become someone who protected instead of betraying.

She wanted to change, a little. She thought that here, she might be able to.

More than anything, she wanted to stay beside these warm people. Feelings were still difficult for her, but if she had one small wish, it was that someday she, too, might be remembered by someone as a decent person, the way they were remembered by her.

Flora began preparing to become someone different from the person she had been so far. This was entirely her own choice.

Moving her body after weeks of stillness, she could feel plainly how much she'd dulled.

Every morning brought a groaning bout of muscle soreness, but the day felt worthwhile in a way that couldn't be compared to the idle, do-nothing days before.

The bath and meal that came after training were nothing short of heaven.

"Lady Flora, I've prepared your bathwater."

"Thank you."

"I'll help you change."

"Ah, that's all right. It's not a dress."

"…So you won't be taking bathing assistance today either?"

"No. I'm more comfortable doing it myself."

"I see… then I'll go prepare your meal."

Lugaria kept her head bowed, fidgeting with her hands.

There seemed to be something more she wanted to say. Flora decided to pretend not to notice until she brought it up herself.

"Lady Flora."

"Yes?"

Flora watched Lugaria through the mirror as she tidied her hair.

"Have I perhaps done something to bother you, Lady Flora?"

Her thin lips were pressed tightly together, and worry filled her round, pale-brown eyes.

She looked as though she'd been troubled by this for some time—on the verge of tears.

"What? Of course not."

Flora answered calmly; she'd expected the question already.

Aside from the period when she couldn't use her shoulder at all, Flora had never asked the maid for anything.

She'd waved off Lugaria's attempts to step in and help, too. With the refusals piling up, it seemed Lugaria had grown quietly uneasy about it.

"Then why won't you let me do anything for you? I must be making you uncomfortable somehow. Please tell me—I'll fix it."

To put it plainly, it wasn't that Lugaria displeased her. Quite the opposite—she liked her very much.

Her light brown hair and the clear, pale eyes to match seemed to hold every ounce of the world's innocence, good and gentle.

And her warm words, her considerate gestures, settled something steady in Flora's chest.

From the very first impression, she gave off an unmistakable I'm a good person air—who could possibly dislike that?

There were various reasons Flora hadn't given Lugaria any work to do, but she couldn't very well explain them all in full, so she decided to go straight to the point.

That was, by any measure, the easiest reason to accept.

"I thought you'd be more comfortable that way, Lady Lugaria."

"…What?"

"You hold a sword. I didn't think acting as a guard, let alone attending someone else, would sit well with you."

Flora turned toward Lugaria and smiled, brightly.

Lugaria's pale eyes trembled, faintly, as though she hadn't expected that at all.

"…Ah, you knew?"

"Yes."

"Ah… I, that's…"

How had she known?

While cleaning the room, she'd noticed the small scars scattered across Lugaria's arms. Looking closer, she'd realized her hands were rough, too, marked with old wounds.

She'd wondered whether it was from hard labor of some kind—but seeing how easily Lugaria spoke with Simen had settled it in a different direction entirely.

However bold a lady's maid might be, she couldn't possibly speak with the Emperor that freely.

As Flora laid out these thoughts, briefly, Lugaria bit down on her lower lip, flustered. She seemed to be weighing what to say.

Her feelings showed plainly on her face—no talent for espionage there at all.

That very lack of polish struck Flora as rather endearing.

"It's fine. You don't have any purpose with me beyond keeping watch, do you?"

As though struck by a finishing blow, Lugaria finally burst into hiccups.

Flora just barely managed to press down the corner of her mouth as it tried to rise.

'I want to torment her more, more—am I actually a sadist—my god.'

Lugaria, holding her breath in an attempt to stop the hiccups, looked so precisely the picture Flora wished she could preserve, if only by sketching it.