Meigyoku no Almaine Volume 1 Prologue

MnA – V1 – Prologue

The Shadestone is the foundation of a kingdom. The thirteen dynasties had its thirteen jewels, but even then only the Shadestone was pa.s.sed down. When the one ruling a kingdom possesses it, the Shadestone will s.h.i.+ne darkly.

AlmaineElzarusFimmelhausen was once simply just Almaine. He had taken up the Fimmenlhausen surname with his mother’s remarriage; however, it was the name of a kingdom.

Her new partner was the king of the Fimmenhausen Kingdom, Ludonia III. He ultimately became a child of the king and had his name entered as the lowest seat of the family pedigree.

A child from a previous marriage becoming royalty was in itself no light matter, not to mention an event that could turn the world on its head. Yet Ludonia III just tossed all that aside, more out of indifference than generosity. Linovana was the king’s seventh queen, moreover there was the instance of having a child from a previous marriage. Or perhaps Almaine was thought of nothing more than a free gift.

In any case, he could enter and leave the palace and had procured a room. However, the room was off in a corner of the palace where there wasn’t even enough sunlight. Opportunities to meet with Linovana were also practically nonexistent.

When his mother pa.s.sed away, Almaine was still but ten years of age.

The white porcelain palace was in the Fimmelhausen Kingdom’s capital of Leuburg, a fitting structure despite openly displaying its heritage and majesty. It had grand and beautiful architecture. With rooms in abundance, one could feasibly sleep as long as they like by instructing a maid. Which is why it took some time until his mother Linovana was discovered. More time had pa.s.sed for Almaine to learn of his mother’s death.

He was walking through the well-kept trees of the palace garden.

The lady-in-waiting and maids were probably hurriedly coming and going inside the palace around now. Linovana, as one of the king’s many queenes, was possibly never revealed to the public. But a queen was still a queen. The funeral would be a large-scale event, and was required to be announced even internationally. Perhaps there would even be troubles over her cause of death.

He wanted to put some distance between all that, and walking in the garden was an ideal location for it.

Moreover, he wanted to truly realize his mother was dead by doing this. It was something too heavy for the ten-year-old boy, but trying to experience it felt almost like the happenings of another world. Feeling as if something was missing from his heart, he was at a loss.

He wanted to somehow tame that feeling by walking through the garden. Tame, for the boy, was a difficult and grown-up idea, but he naturally acquired the very concept. He had acquired such a prescription through a checkered life of only ten years.

“Brother,” said a voice through the trees. He looked back in its direction.

There, was a girl, backlit. She had hair blonde like the ears of wheat and white, translucent skin. While her appearance had an innocence befitting of her age, every now and then you could catch glimpse of a captivating expression, and just how beautiful she would be when she matured was subject to rumors. While she was a little taller than him, Almaine, as a young man, would eventually overtake her. And lastly, he could glimpse the strength of her pure intentions in her jasper eyes.

Almaine observed her appearance through squinted eyes.

“Naria?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“What are you doing here?”

“Everyone has been searching.”

Hesitating on how to reply to his sister’s formally-spun remark, in the end he settled on a noncommittal one.

“Care to walk a little?”

“It would be better to make haste.”

“It’s won’t be long.”

Naria nodded quietly.

The boy and girl walked side-by-side. Although called a garden, as the vast grounds were the pride of the palace, it being similar to a forest. Walking was not hard due to the vigor of the gardener shearing the undergrowth,but it was still close to an adventure for them.

Almaine liked walking in the garden. He didn’t dislike indulging in a book within the palace, but he’d rather touch the origins of the wondrous ill.u.s.trations firsthand. His curiousity would often direct him outside the palace, and had spent several occaisons slipping out to walk the streets of Leuburg. Though each time he would be scolded, he would take it as the price of enjoyment.

“Regarding the earlier inquiry.”

For a nine-year-old girl—yes, she was still nine—Naria spoke in an extremely formal tone.

“You are always here, brother. That’s why I came to look.”

“You know me well.”

“It is my intent to know about you, Brother, no matter what it is.”

Her speech was more like a knight regarding their lord than those of a little sister.

Naria has been like this for several years. She was originally unusually courteous for a child, but it has recently been becoming more and more prominent. While talking was fine, this was making him nervous, Almaine thought.

Whether she knew of these feelings or not, her tone showed no change.

“I’m sorry about your mother.”

“Yeah,” he briefly responded to Naria’s remark this time.

“When the maid went to wake her, she was already cold. They said her condition hasn’t been well as of late.”

“Oh, is that so…”

“Just a little bit ago, I saw my mother lying down. She was so thin, so wrinked that she wasn’t the mother I know,” he reflexively spat out in bitterness. “I had no idea. I wanted to meet her.”

Almaine couldn’t really recall his mother’s face of late. It was the source producing the gloom within his chest.

He had come to the white palace four years ago. He, along with Linovana, had an audience with Ludonia III, and his mother had become the seventh queen.

Henceforth, although not sharing blood, he was recognized as the child of Ludonia III, which carried the meaning of living in the white palace. Thus, regardless of watchful eyes, he was brought up in the same manner as his other siblings. The kingdom itself was not intolerant toward adopted children.

Ludonia III took nine wives and was critized as the “l.u.s.tful king” by neighboring countries. Still, whether or not he treated him as his own child, he was still admired as the king chosen by the Shadestone.

Since living in the palace, he had nearly no time with his mother. He understood the people of the royalty were different from the common people, but just four years ago he was also one of those commoners. There was lonliness in life without his mother.

Walking in the garden distracted him from this lonliness, and he had came across his sister, Naria.

“How does your mother fare, Naria?”

“Mother’s condition also isn’t very well,” Naria replied. “However, she is sound of mind. I’m sure she will recover.”

“You should go visit her; I think seeing you will be comforting. Of course, I think she’ll recover.”

“If you say so, Brother.”

Naria was also a child of Ludonia III’s many queens, but she was biological, not carried over from another marriage. When she was born from the first queen, that is to say the lawful wife, Almaine was still sleeping soundly in a crude house of straw. Naria received plenty of martial arts and cla.s.sroom lectures, was of the mainstream royal family, and yet she had often come in contact with him, a child from a former marriage.

The sunlight filtering through the foliage would occasia.n.a.lly s.h.i.+ne on the pair’s faces.

“Hey, Naria.”

“Yes?”

“Why do you always behave that way with me?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand your intent.”

“See, things like the way you talk are overly adult-like. It’s so rigid, like a knight coming to the palace.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. We’re siblings, so I think you could be more casual.”

“It’s because I practice the martial arts.”

It wasn’t actually an aswer.

From as far back as he could remember,Naria was training in the sword. A person was chosen from the imperial knights to become a trainer and they would repeat rigorous exercises. She had a reputation for making daily advancements without so much as a complaint.

The first time they met, she had practically not spoke. They had b.u.mped in a hallway and didn’t utter a word despite her looking in pain.

At the time, she had dropped a small pendant before Almaine. He spent the day scouring the vast interior of the palace, the sun having already set by the time he found Naria’s room.

He handed the pendant to the girl who timidly opened the door and came out, her only saying, “Thank you very much,” in a tiny voice. Instead of casting her eyes downward, she had stared intently at Almaine.

This was the beginning, and their second meeting. When he was next aware, she was already close to her current behavior.

Almaine took in a breath. This behavior was still also unchildlike.

“You’re not really all that girlish, Naria.”

“If you’re to put it like that, I shall correct my behavior.”

“…Nevermind, it’s fine after all.”

Even if she says she would correct it, the childish boy understood it would not change much. They walked in silence for a little while, and while they were only going through the same places, it was enough to rea.s.sess his mother’s death.

Suddenly, the figure of a person flickered in their field of vision.

It was a tall adult. Although perhaps it was just tall from the eyes of a boy. The person wore dark coveralls with a white ap.r.o.n put on over it, and on their head was a pleated barrette.

She was a maid that worked in the palace.

She slowly walked closer and bowed deeply.

“Lord Almaine, Lady Naria, it’s almost time.”

So that Linovana’s death could be mourned, the royalty were being gathered. It meant to make an appearance there.

At times like that, he was always reminded of a certain scent. The stench coming from the palace when they gathered with the royals. The many fabrics of human relations.h.i.+ps entangling behind history and tradition would emit an indescribable odor.

He had no love for that scent.

“Kareen, a little longer won’t hurt, right?”

“It would be best to make an appearance.”

“I believe you know I prefer being in the garden.”

“I am familiar. However, Lady Linovana’s son not attending would be inconvenient.”

“I wonder about that.”

“Yes, such is what society is,” the maid added, “however, there is still a brief grace of time.”

Almaine smiled.

“That’s what I love about you.”

Kareen responded to his smile with a bow of her head.

The maid was solely appointed to Almaine, his exclusive maid as it were.

Ordinary servants serve generally, but Kareen looked after only him.

All the same, Almaine questioned it. Yet, he knew why Kareen was appointed to him.

Several days after becommingLudonia III’s child, he was summoned to Telchim, the chancellor.

Telchim looked very sickly, his eyes hollow and his mouth gnarled. His limbs resembled that of withered branches, even. Yet he was still full of ambition, his mind still sharp.

“Tell me anything you wish for,” Almaine was told upon entering, having been brought to the chancellor’s office. “He who is to be a child of the king will be granted but one desire. It is an ancient tradition handed down through the ages in the dynasty.”

Almaine did not respond. Being told this on the spot, it was natural he would be hard pressed for an answer. All the more that he was but six at the time.

Telchim seemed to expect this very reaction and did not urge him.

“It does not need to be at once. You are to decide by the age of ten. Conversely, if it is undetermined by your own volition by the age of ten, you will be deemed unfit as a child of the king.”

“…I don’t really understand.”

“The previous kings did this to urge their children from early on to mature and be self-aware. I do believe you will find this over your head at current, though.”

“I have to say something?”

“Silence may be gold, but it is also dirt. Among the previous crown princes, I’ve heard the desire for a whole continent at the age of four. Of course, that is an extreme example. Or… Yes, your younger sister, Lady Naria, wanted a longsword handed down in the royal family. His Majesty had complied, albeit with a forced smile.”

Naria had shown interest in the martial arts since those days. But then, he had yet to meet his sister at that point in time. All he was aware of was that he had a scary-sounding little sister.

“Anything at all, and I will speak with His Majesty. The entire country, as would be expected, is undoable, however. Requesting something neither too great nor too little is also a duty as a child of the king.”

Telchim would often speak in a way difficult for the six-year-old boy to comprehend. Naturally this was intentional, as Almaine had to manage to grasp the meaning. After a moment of silence, he opened his mouth.

“…Mom.”

“Hm?”

“My mom.”

“Oh yes, lady Linovana. Hrm. Certainly befitting of wat a six-year-old child would desire. Still a bit of yearning and then some for one’s mother at that age.”

Almaine was silent. Even at this age he knew to be embarra.s.sed to yearn for his mother when his peers desire sword or territorty.

Telchim shook his head.

“That is not doable. Lady Linovana has become His Majesty’s queen. She must live as a queen more than a mother. She, too, is aware of this.” The aged chancellor thought for a moment. “But a request is a request. I will convey this to His Majesty.”

Several days later, Almaine was given Kareen, a maid.

Seemingly in place of his mother, yet Kareen behaved not as a mother, but persistently as his exclusive maid. He, too, could not fawn on a stranger, and life continued as normal. Thus the prince was not deposed and time pa.s.sed.

In brief, the maid before him has already been with him for four years. Her appearance was practically unchanged since then, only the jade-like color of her hair and her doll-like beauty standing out.

Almaine conveyed a “thank you” to the accommodating maid.

“Your grat.i.tude is unearned.”

“You’re always so kind.”

“If it is permitted, I will also stay here. In case of necessity, please allow me to deter you.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“Accepting anger is also a responsibility of people like myself,” the tender maid told him. He nodded content, more from at the tone than the contents.

Naria saw him like that and made a little bit of a sullen expression.

“Kareen, I am with brother. He does not need the likes of a maid.”

“It is my duty.”

“Then where is my weapon, the mighty sword bestowed by His Majesty?”

“It should be in your room.”

“I am uneasy without it.”

“It should be a little long to hang at your side.”

Meaning that it was too soon for a nine-year-old girl.

“Not really,” Naria said repulsively. “I can’t protect brother without it.”

“Protect? Me?” Surprised, Almaine asked again, “Why?”

“Because protecting you, brother, is a matter of course,” his sister spoke quickly. “You’ve always been alone. You came to the palace from the outside, were separated from your mother, and were always walking in the garden by yourself. Neither father nor our brothers and sisters care. So at the very least, I decided to be by you. Since being by yourself is just lonely.”

He firmly listed to Naria’swords, her face slightly flushed all the while she spoke.

True enough, his little sister has one way or another tried to stay by him. He may not have been conscious of it, but she was always close by. Her face held extraordinary determination for a nine-year-old.

Almaine blinked several times.

“…But isn’t being protected by your little sister odd?”

“It is no such thing.”

“But I’m ten and you’re nine.”

“For that reason I am also learning the sword.”

He was unable to respond to her determined words.

Thinking about it, despite being the first queen’s daughter, she has treated him well. Among their many other siblings, there were scarce who would. To begin with, Almaine was a southeastern Elam name, which is not how it was in the palace.

Uncommonness was often connected with alienation. The relatives he could say he was intimate with besides Naria would be his elder sister Hiltrud, and his younger sister Menica.

“It is my honor to serve you, brother,” Naria uttered with words not sounding like that of a girl below ten-years-old. “I have decided so.”

“This is, what do you call it? Umm, obstinate.”

“Please allow me to take the oath of a knight.”

She knelt, bowed her head, and placed her hand on her chest.

“Uh, well…”

Almaine was confused, his sister already speaking words of the oath.

“…I offer this body to my brother Almaine, my life in unwavering fealty, I hereby vow. To my lord and brother, may there be eternal glory.”

She likely gave it thought in advance; there was no falter in her words. Almaine, after being fl.u.s.tered for a short while, looked to Kareen for help.

“Um… Is it already too late?”

“Accepting it or not is done only in your own heart, lord Almaine.” The maid was calm and smiling.

Reluctantly, he nodded.

“Very well. I accept, Naria.”

“Thank you. With this, I am your knight in both name and actuality.”

“Um, still, I know I already said it, but I’m ten and you’re nine, right?”

“I’m nine but can handle a sword.”

“But…”

“Rest at ease, lord Almaine,” the maid Kareen quietly interjected. “I will protect the both of you.”

He was relieved.

“If you say so.”

“You aren’t needed,” Naria pouted. “Brother will be fine as long as I am with him. Moreover, I also do not need it. I can protect myself by myself.”

“That is not the case. Safeguarding is also an important mission I received from His Majesty as well.”

“That is not for a maid to do. Do not steal the duty of a knight.”

“You are quite right. However, remaining nearby is still my duty.”

While it was soft, it was a tone to control selfishness.

Naria’s expression wasn’t a satisfied one at all. She was too caught up in her words of protecting.

Almaine thought, “Letting them fight is bad,” with his ten-year-old intellect.

“Thanks, to the both of you,” he told them. “On the day of my mother’s pa.s.sing, erm, I think being told these things is very fortunate for me. So um, not arguing would make it even better.”

“There was no fight,” Naria said. Kareen smiled just a little.

“That’s right; there was no fight.”

“I merely only want to protect you. I’ve decided on it.”

“I, too, do not wish to be separated from my duties as a maid.”

“O-oh, that’s good…” he said awkwardly. He couldn’t understand how they could be so in tune. He still had some years to go to sense the subtleties comrpised in the words of women.

While forming a peak with his hands, Almaine looked up at the sky. The sun was about to reach its zenith.

“I suppose we should head back…”

“That’s right.”

Kareen slightly closed her eyes, then opened them immediately.

“…Yes, lady Hiltrud is looking for you.”

Hiltrud was Ludonia III’s eldest daughter. Her biological mother was the same as Naria’s, the first queen. As she was born from the queen called the avatar of beauty, the neighboring countries ceaselessly proposed for marriage.

Even Almaine with the mind of a boy thought his sister was immensely beautiful. Many feel honored to just speak with her. But that aside, he had his maid’s gesture on his mind.

“Hey Kareen, how do you know my sister is?”

“The other maids told me.”

“You heard them?”

At least, there was no one here but the three of them.

Kareen did not answer the boy’s question, she merely smiled silently.

“Will you go?”

Almaine grimaced for a moment, but immediately thought better of it.

“Yes, I’ll go see her.”

“I’ll go,” Naria offered, but he interrupted her.

“Sister only wants to see me, right?”

Kareen a.s.sented.

“Then I’ll go alone.”

Naria was still dissatisfied.

“Then I can’t protect you.”

“Nothing will happen. Just stay with Kareen.”

Almaine left behind those words and headed toward the palace.

The white, porcelain palace was constructed in the reign of the king from eleven generations ago, Shlain I. Shlain I may have left the world due to illness, but the palace still remained. The exterior of the stone that was the source of its name sparkled most beautifully under the moonlight. The glossy, stainless stone as pure as a babe’s skin was no longer produced only within the kingdom; it was the envy of several countries of the Lodia continent, and had become a momentous export along with similarly produced gems.

Almaine came inside from the garden and fastened the collar of his clothes. As the ceiling was high up, it was not so different from the outside temperature.

Looking around restlessly several times, he hastened down the corridor at a quick pace. The palace interior was so vast he had yet to memorize it, but he knew of Hiltrud’s room.

Nevertheless, what manner of business did his sister have with him? He knew she was a gentle person; she had been particularly fond of him, a child brought over from a previous marriage.

But the deceased Linovana had few good words about Hiltrud. Although the opportunities themselves to see his mother were scarce, via Ludonia III, it seemed Almaine was to be prohibited from coming into contact with Hiltrud.

He did not understand why. He even thought his mother was cruel to forbade him from meeting such a beautiful sister.

Walking while pondering, something abruptly pa.s.sed in front of him.

It was aslant from top to bottom. Broken at his feet was pottery that in some way resembled a dish.

It was a spine-chilling moment. It wouldn’t be something to brush aside if this had hit him in the head. And now it was evident it was thrown at him.

He turned toward the direction the dish came flying from. Overhanging from the second floor corridor, a stout boy was looking down at him.

“Who gave you permission to walk here? This is the home of father and I,” the boy’s words came down.

Almaine ignored him and began walking. And again, the voice came.

“Itsuki.”

He responded with nothing in return. The overhead boy grew confident from this behavior.

“Coward. You are trash. You’re repulsive, you sc.u.m.”

“….”

“Get the h.e.l.l out of my sight.”

He stopped his feet and clenched his hands in that so it wouldn’t be noticed.

He knew who he was. The one who threw the dish was Galkud. He was 15-years-old, five more than him, and the son of the second queen.

Ludonia III, having many queens, would naturally also have many children. The eldest brother was Heinel, and while he was the closest to the throne, he was also burdened with poor health. For being appointed the kingdom’s legitimate successor for the thirteen dynasties, it was truly a hindrance. For ages, a small country’s influence slipping would inversely give the surrounding countries power. To increase the speed of a boat meant a strong oar was needed.

Galkud, the second son, was sound of health. His lack of patience and the shallowness of his judgementhas made the people around him frown upon him. In the first place, the act itself of throwing a dish at another person despite being fifteen was childish behavior. It doesn’t come to light too much, but he also has small animals that make their way into the palace put to the sword.

His lack of patience manifests in his profound appet.i.te, and being overweight seems to have given him a sense of inferiority, him having made a habit of finding faults in things a several times a day.

Galkud cried out in a high voice. His voice having not broken is another one of his feelings of inferiority.

“Come over here!” He held onto another dish. “Be my target. That is the role of aItsuki.”

Almaine did not draw closer. He had no plans to just calmly be a target.

“I said come! Do as your told and be quick about it!”

Being agitated by his own high voice, his att.i.tude grew increasingly violent.

“Trash like you needs to listen to what I say!”

He threw the dish and Almainereflixively closed his eyes.

With a shatter at his feet, the pottery had broken to pieces.

“d.a.m.n it all, it missed! Stay still!”

Galkud again obtained another dish. It was a different type from the previous; he must have swiped it from a nearby room.

“This one will hit!”

“…Why?”

“What was that!?”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you always like this to me?”

“Are you deaf!? You’re aItsuki, you don’t belong here!” The look of madness grew in his narrowed eyes. Even foam was visible on the edge of his mouth. “I will be the king! A king must be strict! I’m merely practicing to handle commoners strictly. AItsuki like you is perfect! No one will give a d.a.m.n if you were gone!”

Almaine just watched Galkud make a fuss. He also had an immature mind, so he was able to understand his argument, irrational as it were.

Galkud’s obsession toward authority was intense. Was he misguided in his teachings to be a king? Or perhaps his ability to comprehend was just low originally.

He had an understanding for their positions. However, that was quite one-sided, in a sense. It is said anything is possible for a king, which would lead to a.s.serting whims, and the tacit approvals of peers would increase. His infantile thinking would focus only on manifesting mayhem.

Even so, he was not foolish enough to direct that power on their parents and siblings. Which is why the easiest target was Almaine, an outsider. It was an idea similar to the small animal abuse.

“Got it, you piece of sc.u.m!? Now be a good target and be quiet.”

The dish in Galkud’s hands was large. He was throwing it because all he had was strength. And were it to hit, Almaine would be gravely injured, or dead.

“You have no right to be here. You are just a wh.o.r.eson! A filthy wh.o.r.eson has no…”

The boy was unable to finish speaking. A fragment of pottery had pa.s.sed his cheek. It was only a little, but it produced a red streak that gradually bled.

Galkud brought his hand to his cheek and let out a shrill scream at the sight of blood.

“Waaaah! d.a.m.n you! How dare you!”

Almaine, too, was still staring at his own hand. He had just listened to Galkud’s words, let the blood rush to his head, and threw a fragment he picked up from off the floor.

He couldn’t believe what he had done. His plan had been to not retort and to just take his leave.

It was not a significant wound, but Galkud writhed nonetheless.

“d.a.m.n it, d.a.m.n it, d.a.m.n it all! You’re just some dead woman’s child! This is unallowable! I’ll tell father to exile you! You’ll never step foot in the palace again!”

(…Then I’ll just have to give it a shot, too.)

He could not undo that he had thrown back. Then he had to keep going, to sink or swim. Now that it’s begun, he would face what’s to come head-on.

Galkud screamed while holding a dish and Almaine gathered another fragment. And at that moment…

“Stop that right now,” he heard a different voice from overhead.

There was a woman by the overhang of the corridor. Her hair was comparable to that of a brook’s flowing surface, her features tidy. And above all, she had an unconcealable loveliness. Her eyes fell upon the two boys.

Galkud’s expression s.h.i.+ned. It was the joy of finding an ally.

“Hiltrud, sister!”

Hiltrud beckoned with her hand at the plump boy trying to rush over.

He himself drew closer, but did not pa.s.s a certain extent.

“Put down the dish.” She faced Almaine as well. “You too, Almaine.”

Being told to, he dropped the fragment to the floor.

Galkud also abided, but began to just talk on the other hand.

“Sister, that Itsuki is a brute! He threw a shard at me! Look, this injury is from him!” He showed his cheek.

“I was watching.” Hiltrud did not sympathize, rather, she looked him over with disdain. “Galkud, you threw several dishes at Almaine and he retaliated only once. And yet you say you are the victim? If you are going to tell His Majesty, I shall accompany and speak the truth.”

“B-but…”

“If you treat this as nothing happened, I will keep silent about the dishes.”

“……”

Having no method to talk back, Galkud poured a gaze full of hatred over Almaine only once, and ran off as is.

Almaine gazed at this from below all the while. Knowing Hiltrud would descend, he simply stared without change.

While his sister smiled lightly, she made her way to him.

“Are you injured?”

“No, dear sister.”

Hiltrud chuckled.

“You’re always saying that. There’s no need to call me in that bombastic way. I would like for you to use my name.”

“Ever since I arrived here, I learned I mustn’t forget courtesy, even with siblings.”

“I do not mind. Call me Hiltrud.”

“Sister…Hiltrud.”

“Still a bit stiff.”

“Understood…”

Somehow, it feels like Naria toward me, he thought.

Speaking of Fimmelhausen’s s.h.i.+ning jewel did not mean the yielded rubies, but referred to Hiltrud. She was Ludonia III’s second eldest child at twenty. She had a supple body and beauty appropriate for her age, attracting the attention of anyone and everyone.

Her beauty was famous over even neighboring countries, and there was never a shortage of proposals to her. She did not respond to these herself, partic.i.p.ating in political affairs with her older brother.

Fimmelhausen has recognized the enthronement of a queen ever since the age of the thirteen dynasties. Therefore, she had the authority to succeed the thone, all the more that their eldest brother, Heinel, had poor health. Whether or not foreign royalties would desire a tiara adorning her head is different issue.

“Um, thanks, for helping me…”

“It was nothing. I also am at a loss with what to do with Galkud. I’ll just have to be harsher next time.”

“You didn’t have to do that much for me, though.”

“Why is that?”

He resisted answering her question with “Because I have Kareen and Naria.” Whatever the circ.u.mstances may be, it would be odd.

“Because, my mother’s already gone…”

“You mean since missLinovana has pa.s.sed away, we no longer have a relation? Don’t be absurd. Not to repeat myself, but we are brother and sister.”

Her voice that could bebe synonymized with the singsong of birds embarra.s.sing him, Almaine looked away.

The comment that there is no man not captivated by Hiltrud was one he could entirely agree with, but he could not continue staring. He felt his sister would “swallow him up” .

She was walking down the road of the kingdom. Would she continue as the daughter of a king with the aid of their brothers, perhaps marry into a foreign country, or become the lord of the throne with the Shadestone in hand? Continuing to watch his sister would let him know whether the kingdom would be good or bad, and pondered if she would have the same odor as the palace.

“I was also fond of missLinovana,” Hiltrud spoke slowly. “She was so beautiful.”

“There were people who didn’t like her.”

“There was. People don’t like those better than them. Women, especially the queens, will direct it on the beautiful. My mother didn’t like missLinovana either.” Then she naturally added, “But I did.”

“Thank you very much.”

“Honestly. There’s no need to speak like that.”

Almaine muttered an “OK,” trying to obey.

Hiltrud continued, “But it didn’t look like missLinovana liked me in return. She wouldn’t even speak to me. She wouldn’t let you and I meet much, either.”

She cast her eyes down sorrowfully.

Almaine sensed his sister also knew. His mother Linovana kept a distance with Hiltrud for some reason, even Ludonia III had told him so. She was an intelligent sister, instantly sensing her situation. And it made her sad.

He could not comprehend why his mother would behave like that. She had made no effort to impede him from seeing his two younger sisters, Naria and Menica, being only difficult with Hiltrud. He had asked but once, yet his mother had simply shook her head in silence. Thinking to perhaps ask Kareen, she had only said, “I am unsure.”

Was it because she was pretty? Hiltrud had also said that, that “People don’t like those better than them.”

“But,” he said, “My mom is now gone. So, it’s fine to see you, Sister.”

He uttered those words in attempt to liberate Hiltrud from her sorrow. It included the sincerity of a child.

“You shouldn’t speak poorly of your deceased mother,” Hiltrud lightly chided him. “But I appreciate for the sentiment. From here on, we can see each other as many times as we please.”

He had her affection. Simultaneously, he turned his head away. The “swallow up” feeling was there again. She regarded him with affection. Simultaneously, he turned his head away. The “swallow up” feeling was there again.

He believed he couldn’t keep doing this. He did not want his lovely sister to hate him. She had even came to his aid a moment ago.

“Oh yes. Would you like to come to my room?” Hiltrud proposed, as if struck by a good idea. “You’ve never been, right? I’ll treat you to some sweets.”

“But, I need to clean this up.”

“Someone will take care of that later. Come.”

She reached her tender hand out with just a smidgen of forcefulness, and led Almaine to her room.

While they went to the room, Hiltrud hummed a song. It was a song about taking a baby bird into your hand. As Almaine had heard it several times, he figured his sister was in a good mood.

Hiltrud’s room was s.p.a.cious. Lace curtains were decorated about, and the walls were adorned with various gifts. They were from royalties of all nations for the purpose of courts.h.i.+p, but Almaine did not know that.

Almaine sat down on the edge of the bed, with Hiltrud taking a seat beside him.

They were alone. This was a situation he had yet to experience.

He was excited. On the other hand, he also felt somewhat uncomfortable. There was no doubt the woman next to him was his sister, but different from the earlier reliability and loveliness, she somehow came off as dangerous. A feeling like when touching a rose and are p.r.i.c.ked by its thorns.

Managing to fight off this feeling had took him, a young boy, some effort. He did not know whether or not Hiltrud would understand it.

She peered at his face.

“Almaine, your eyes are auburn, yes? And such dark hair. Did you inherit these from missLinovana?”

“Yes, I think so,” he answered.

“What kind of man was your father?”

“I do not know. I heard he was he was a craftsman, or a soldier.”

“He must have been a southern man.”

“Yes.”

The inhabitants of various countries had come to the Fimmelhausen. Almaine’s father might have been among them in order to escape warring, or poverty.

Hiltrud combed through his hair, her hand creeping across his brow.

“Such a pretty face. Even among our brothers, a boy like you is unsual.”

“I am?”

“Yes. Kings have gathered people from all over the world for generations. From north to west to south. Even from nations of military prestige across the east. But southern blood seldom enters the royal family, rather than the nation.” Without waiting for his understanding, she continued. “But, I am fond of these features.”

“You…are?”

“Yes.”

Her lips gently drew to his forehead, followed by a lukewarm sensation.

“Hehe,” Hiltrud giggled, having planted a kiss on his brow.

She then took Almaine’s left hand.

“Even this hand is so pretty, still not bony, nor is it rough. After some years, it will be the gruff hand of a man, won’t it? Such a waste.”

She caressed his fingers. A ticklish sensation a.s.sailed him down to the tip of his toes.

Hiltrud brought the boy’s pinky to her mouth.

And bit.

“Ow!”

Almaine hurriedly pulled his hand away. Blood streamed from his pinky.

“Oh dear, did that hurt?”

“Yes…”

“That is fine. This is a mark. A mark that I gave you.”

Hiltrud was giggling. This was not the kindness she had shown in the corridor, it was simply something born of cruel licentiousness.

His sister would occaisonally show charm. Rather than refres.h.i.+ng, it was accompanied by depth, like that of a swamp. s.p.a.cious, and deep.

She seldom let it surface. But so far, while Almaine and her have been alone, it intermittently showed.

It was something he, being very young, could not understand. Where did her intentions stem from? Did it hold the meaning of the relations.h.i.+p between a man and woman in some way? The only thing he knew was that he was not going to hide from Hiltrud.

“Sister Hiltrud… Won’t His Majesty get angry at this…?”

“No worries. Eventually the Shadestone will be mine. When that happens, I will be one called Your Majesty. So do not worry.”

He did not grasp the significance of Hiltrud’s words.

“Lie down.” Her words carried a commanding tone. “Be quick.”

“The sweets…”

“Will come after.”

He was flatly brushed off. Feeling more afraid from her tone than remorseful, he lied down on the bed.

Hiltrud looked down upon him. Her mouth was one of obscenity. Her eyes had a color resembling that of Galkud’s.

She sidled up to him.

Almaine was not even able to cast his gaze away and just made witness to his sister’s actions. Something like this had happened just once previously. At the time, he was sitting on a bench in a corner of the garden. Before something could happen, a maid under the command of Linovana flew over and pulled him away. He was restricted from coming into contact with Hiltrud thereafter.

“So cute. Now is when a boy is the most beautiful.”

Her fingers moved as if flowing. They bared the front of Almaine’s clothes, his innocent skin becoming exposed.

She extended her deep red tongue, and licked around his navel.

“Oh my, you’re getting gooseb.u.mps. Hehe, you’re scared. You’re safe. All you have to do is remain as you are.”

“Sist…”

“Don’t move,” Hiltrud raised her face. Her expression was that of a demon’s. “It willhurt if you move.”

Almaine kept silent. He was petrified, no longer able to do a thing.

It was not only her tongue; she reached out her hands. From top to bottom.Frombottom to top.To his sides, to his thighs.

In an attempt to forget what felt like lukewarm bugs crawling over him, the boy stared at the tester. He had still just turned ten-years-old. It was around the time he would be helping the family were it a poor one, and were he born into an admiral’s family, he would be a.s.signed to a wars.h.i.+p as an officer cadet within a few years. Hundreds of paths of life for hundreds of lives. But were there others that would share his experiences?

Hiltrud’s tongue trickled as it moved.

Why was this happening? He couldn’t understand. But he was finally able to grasp his mother’s motives.

So that this very thing would not occur, she had restricted Almaine and Hiltrud from coming into contact. But now even his mother was gone.

Hiltrud had waited for that.

“You’re so cute. Truly just so cute. Even your trembling is like a baby bird.”

It was chilly. The traces of where he was licked was exposed to the air, after all. Unlikely to be allowed, he was unable to wipe himself.

He could hear her singing.

“Baby bird, in my hands.”

It was a beautifully clear voice. Even Hiltrud’s singing was famous. When she had once sung on the balcony, all the present people stopped what they were doing, too taken with listening.

That beauty mounted the boy.

“O cute birdie, you are mine.”

She would run her tongue over him in the song’s intervals. There was no stopping it anymore, so he did not even resist.

“With just a little effort, you’d be crushed. Baby bird, you are mine.”

Both of her hands seized his thighs. Then, she moved in deeper.

“Baby bird, you are mine. With just a little effort…”

A bad feeling was trying to dominate his lower half.

“You’d be…”

His body jumped.

“Crushed.”

In that instant, Almaine’s eyes went wide. Do I want to be crushed, just like that? No, like h.e.l.l I will. I hate this.

“Wraah!” he jumped up. His shout had given him control over his body and drove away the fear.

He stood up on the bed. Hiltrud, on all fours, wore an expression of disbelief.

“Almaine…”

“Uwaah!!”

Only his shout spilled out as he rushed out the room as he were.

He raced down the corrider without looking back, as good as naked. But that didn’t matter. He refused to be here. His mother was dead, he had no choice but to escape by himself.

This place was insane, absolutely insane. Galkud, Hiltrud, and Ludonia III who permits them to be.

The faces of Naria and Kareen came to his mind several times, and each time he would shake them off. Even were he to tell another person about this, who would believe him? Hiltrud was a princess of the prestigious Fimmelhausen kingdom, and he was aItsuki, a member of the lowest seat. More fleeting than foam, his claims would just disappear. But if I stay here, I will break.

That night, Almaine stole out of the white palace.

And thus eight years of time flowed by.