Re:Zero Kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu (LN) - Volume EX1 - Chapter 5

THE DREAM OF THE LION KING

1

Fourier Lugunica’s collapse was paid comparatively scant attention in the Kingdom of Lugunica.

A member of the royal family had fallen ill, and it was treated lightly. Normally, such a thing could not have been imagined, but at that moment it was excused by a peculiar circumstance in the kingdom.

—Fourier was not the only member of the royal family who had been brought down by disease.

Rather, every single member of the royal family of Lugunica had fallen ill. Fourier’s father, the current king, Randohal Lugunica, was of course among them. There were individual differences in the symptoms of illness, but simple guesswork could not be allowed with a disease whose name and origin no one knew. In its whole history, the kingdom had never faced something like this, and it shuddered with the encroaching crisis.

“So my probationary period is fiiiinally over and I get to be a regular member of the guard, but the captain is just the worst! He’s acting totally different from before! What a bully!”

“Mm, I thought as much. Just when you think Marcus is as serious as he looks, he turns out to have a mischievous side. I figured you two would get along.”

“Your Highness, are you listening to me? Ferri is getting bullied by a mean ol’ superior in the royal guard. I’m looking for some comfort here!” His eyes watered and his voice shook, but this only caused Fourier to smile.

Ferris shook his head helplessly at Fourier’s amusement. Then he brought some water to the prince’s sickbed and held it to Fourier’s lips. The young man sat up with some difficulty, and Ferris could hear the water from the pitcher running down his throat.

“I’m sorry for always putting you to such trouble. It’s almost like you’re my personal attendant these days.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! These days it’s meowthing but lowlifes trying to get Ferri to heal their training wounds just ’cause they think I’m cute. I would much rather be with you, Your Highness. And Lady Crusch hasn’t been acting very friendly lately…”

“Yes, she must be quite busy. I haven’t seen her for days, and I’m getting lonely. Perhaps it has to do with my frustration at being unable to move. This accursed illness.”

“—”

Fourier wiped his moistened lips on his sleeve, then nestled into his pillow and smiled weakly. His smile showed his distinctive canines, as always, but there was no energy to it. It was a forced smile to hide from Ferris the sharp pain running through his chest.

Fourier was emaciated. His shining golden hair had lost its luster, and his eyes, red like the twilight sun, seemed somehow faint. He spoke without vigor and often succumbed to fits of coughing. Above all, he no longer had even the strength to walk around. For the last month, he had been completely bedridden.

—It had all started on the day of the trouble at the House of Argyle. After the mansion burned to the ground, Fourier had stepped from his dragon carriage, only to collapse. The sight had caused Ferris to put aside all his emotions and focus everything on healing the prince.

Fourier seemed to be in pain. Ferris had transferred life force to him, put him in the carriage, and returned to the castle with all haste. That was where they first learned the grim truth that the entire royal family was ill.

After that, all the patients, including Fourier, were confined to bed rest in the royal chambers. The illness went on without significant change, but its pathology remained mysterious—even Ferris couldn’t figure out what was causing it. Even Ferris, who was second to none in the art of using mana to cure sickness.

There had been signs. Ferris himself had seen Fourier’s coughing fits and occasional bouts of ill health. At the Karsten mansion, he had groaned in pain—but he had refused to let Ferris examine him.

At the time, Ferris had been so busy thinking about himself and Crusch that he had overlooked these things. And only now was he keeping close to the prince, trying to make things better now that it was more convenient for him. Ferris hated himself so much, he wanted to disappear from existence.

“Ferris, shouldn’t you—? Aren’t you supposed to be with my father, not with me? You’re the heir to the kingdom’s greatest healer. It’s your duty.”

“It’s all right. I make sure I’ve done everything I’m supposed to before I come to Your Highness. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m putting you ahead of the king.”

“I see, it was simply my misunderstanding. How embarrassing—! Crusch is going to laugh at me.”

Fourier’s smile as he spoke Crusch’s name was lonesome. People grow more prone to loneliness as their bodies weaken with illness. Even Fourier, the very epitome of enthusiasm.

“Lady Crusch…” Ferris took Fourier’s hand in his, patting it gently, and whispered the name like a prayer.

He knew Crusch was immensely busy. She was one of the highest-ranking nobles, and with the entire royal family incapacitated, there wasn’t a moment when her hands weren’t full. And yet, even so, Ferris couldn’t help thinking…

I wish she would come comfort this sweet, lonely, precious person.

He couldn’t do it by himself. He was no substitute for Crusch. Ferris treasured Fourier so much, and yet once again, he was unable to give the prince the strength he needed. Powerlessness tore always at Ferris’s heart, threatening to break it.

“…The heartsick look doesn’t suit you.” Fourier’s voice found Ferris under his self-torment, and then self-reproach struck him like a thunderbolt. Mentally gritting his teeth, he mustered a smile for Fourier.

“Aw, I’m not heartsick. Ferri is feeling fine—just fine!”

Far be it from him to start crying. Not here, not now. He might be powerless, but he had his pride. He couldn’t heal Fourier’s illness, but he could manage a smile.

If that was all he could do, then he would do it come hell or high water.

“Gosh, Your Highness! If you just eat and drink and then go right to sleep, you’ll get fat…!”

“And then…Crusch won’t…like me anymore…”

All he could do was remind the prince of the everyday things, so maybe Fourier could revisit them in his dreams.

2

In the royal assembly hall, Crusch Karsten had found herself unable to think anything for a very, very long time. For several days now the powerful and noble of the realm, along with the Council of Elders, the organization that essentially acted as the kingdom’s brain, had been discussing what to do about the turmoil that faced their nation.

Crusch was getting awfully sick of the meetings she was obliged to attend as duchess. They had been talking for so long that she knew even the smallest details of every attending noble’s face.

They had to deal with rituals where the king’s presence was expected, while trying to prevent any word of the current situation reaching the world’s three major powers. They had to take care of all the duties each member of the royal family would normally have attended to, all while trying to figure out what to do about a disease whose origins remained obscure. And on top of all that, each of the nobles had the usual business of their domains to contend with. It led to a level of confusion and exhaustion that few of them could remember experiencing before.

But now, a month after all this had started, the royal family’s condition finally seemed not to be getting any worse. This was what they had just begun to discuss when—

“First Prince Zabinel is dead, you say…?”

The tearful report brought by the spell caster from the Royal Academy of Healing was more than enough to throw the room back into near panic. First Prince Zabinel Lugunica had been the first of the confirmed cases of illness in the royal castle. Hence the condition afflicting him might have been the quickest to act…

“This is all too sudden! How can this be? How can His Highness have gotten so ill?”

“It’s impossible! I met with him only yesterday, and he… He gave no sign of being so close to the end…”

Those who had been especially close to Zabinel mourned the sudden news of his passing. But they weren’t the only ones left agape at the report. Everyone in the room was shocked.

One person had now died from the disease that afflicted the entire royal family. And still no one knew the cause or how to treat it.

“Highness…” Crusch, too, felt a pang at the news. She was usually so careful to stand up straight, but now she felt she might break in half with the anxiety tearing at her innards. She could only think of Fourier, lying in his sickbed and offering his weak smile when she came to see him.

“We must consider the possibility that His Majesty, too, will leave us.” Even as she chewed her lip, Crusch heard a raspy voice. She looked up to find that everyone who had heard had focused on the center of the room, where Miklotov, the representative of the Council of Elders, stood.

“Sir Miklotov, a poor jest! His Majesty? Leave us?”

“Mm. The inevitable cannot be avoided, no matter how diligently we look away from reality. We cannot afford to be optimists right now. Or else we will not be able to fulfill the duties of the most precious seat in our nation. Am I wrong?”

“Ngh…”

“We see now how quickly the condition may turn—and that means that even tomorrow, we could find ourselves facing the worst. When it happens, it will shake the kingdom, and our role is to support the nation during that time. We must not turn our backs on the people.”

Miklotov’s pointed pronouncement put to rest those who thought he was being disrespectful. His words may have been unsparing toward the kingdom’s leader, but this only made them all the more necessary.

Thus, Crusch was the first to put aside her personal feelings and speak on the sage’s behalf. “Sir Miklotov is right. If anything should happen to His Majesty, the kingdom won’t disappear. It will fall to us to do something about it.”

Crusch was one of only a few present of ducal rank, but she had relatively little experience and hadn’t established herself yet. Still, her speaking up helped the rest of the nobles start to feel the same way.

“I’m grateful for your endorsement,” Miklotov said. “Naturally, I still hope and pray that His Highness and His Highness’s family will come safely through this trial. Please don’t misunderstand me on that point.”

He moved that the assembly begin discussing what to do with the kingdom in the event that they had no king—and last of all, he shot a meaningful glance at Crusch. Perhaps he was expressing his gratitude for her being the first to support him. But she didn’t see it; she had already collapsed into her seat.

With things the way they were, she wouldn’t be able to drop in on Fourier. She had become so constrained by her noble duties that she didn’t even have time to see him. She couldn’t let this precious, limited time go to waste. That was what she told herself even as her duty compelled her to remain at the meeting.

3

“…Crusch, is that you?”

Crusch was somewhat surprised to see Fourier open his eyes as he sensed her entering his room. She had tried to walk as quietly as possible so as not to disturb his sleep. Not only could he tell someone was there, but he had even known who it was.

“You surprise me, Your Highness. I have the sense there’s nothing I can hide from you.”

“And…perhaps there isn’t. That’s simply how well we know each other. Even with my eyes closed, even in the depths of sleep, I know it’s you… It’s been some time. Have you been well?”

“I’ve been terribly busy, but my health is fine. Your color looks good today, Your Highness. That’s a relief.” Crusch sat in a chair by the bed and studied Fourier’s face.

Her last visit had been only a few days earlier, yet he seemed even thinner now. And Fourier had never been the beefiest person around. He was through burning fat; now his body was consuming itself. His cheekbones stood out slightly. It was impossible not to see how the disease was ravaging him.

“Crusch…I want to…feel your touch.”

“Yes, Your Highness. With your permission.” She gently reached under the sheets and took Fourier’s trembling hand. His fingers had always been slim, but now they were despairingly frail. She rubbed the palm of his hand and interlaced her fingers with his.

“Ah. The touch of your fingers is pleasant,” he said. “A woman’s hand.”

“Your Highness’s hand feels rather thin, for a man. One would never think you had practiced so long with the sword.”

“The sword… Yes, the sword… I suppose I’m the only one who could possibly best you. Though I’ve neglected my training for many days now.”

“Your Highness would surely recover from a few days of rest before long. Though they do say that it takes three days of work to make up for one missed.”

“Are you telling me to work three times as long as I’ve rested…? Merciless!” And then, like so often before, he fell into a fit of coughing. Crusch hurriedly turned him on his side and rubbed his back gently until it passed. His breathing was so harsh, and his back seemed so small.

“Ah, yes, what about…? What about the Argyles? And Ferris? Is everything going well?” When Crusch said nothing, Fourier spoke as if a thought had just occurred to him.

Feeling saved by the change of subject, Crusch nodded and said, “Yes. Thanks to Your Highness’s good offices. I’m glad to say what occurred at the Argyle estate hasn’t gone beyond the few of us. The deaths of Ferris’s mother and father are being called an accident. So Ferris—”

“Can safely inherit the Argyle name. Good. That’s good. He may say he doesn’t want it, but he can’t throw away everything he was born to. He mustn’t.”

“Do you think he’ll be able to accept it?”

“Of course—he is my friend, and your knight, after all!” Fourier half turned to her and smiled, showing his teeth. He almost coughed again, but he forced it down into his throat. It caused his eyes to water, but he kept smiling. Seeing it, Crusch found herself unable to form any words. But she mustered all the strength she had to smile back.

This had never been a particular talent of hers, but Fourier often wanted to see her smile.

“Mm… I knew…your smile was…beautiful.”

She shouldn’t have left all the good cheer to Ferris. She should have at least learned how to make herself smile. Crusch tried to live life without regrets, but this one thing she dearly wished were different.

4

Over the past several months, Ferris had found it increasingly hard to believe that he was one of the Knights of the Royal Guard. He had been going to the healers’ academy to check on the royal family members, and to nurse Fourier. How was any of this the work of a knight? It seemed a lot more like what a spell caster of the Royal Academy of Healing would do.

“The third prince passed away last night. That’s the seventh person…”

Another one had gone, all the healers’ efforts in vain. Ferris didn’t want to hear the name of another dead royal, but at the academy the news was going to reach him whether he wanted it to or not.

Seven victims, and still they didn’t know the cause of the disease. All they had learned was that once the patient developed a fever and became comatose, they were beyond help. All this, and just one worthless grain of knowledge.

“—”

Grieved, Ferris left the king’s sickroom after another day of trying various curative magics to no effect. He had always regarded this place with awe, but after spending so much time there, he no longer felt anxious about it. His initial emotion, something like a holy terror, had long ago given way to a sense of powerlessness.

Ferris carried a black book as he walked through the halls of the royal castle. It was covered in blood and fingerprints. It could have been called, in some sense, a gift from his father.

The Sacrament of the Immortal King…

A secret spell developed by a witch that could resurrect the dead, granting corpses the power to walk again. His father had not been able to replicate the spell successfully, but if it could be done, even those who were gone could be saved…

“His Highness… If anything happens to His Highness…”

Ferris thought of Fourier, who grew thinner and more infirm by the day and, not for the first time, pictured himself getting the sacrament to work. Fourier’s death, among all others, was not one he could simply turn away from.

He would need a miracle to save the fourth prince. And he never seemed to get a miracle when he asked for one. The sacrament was the only other thing Ferris could think of.

When he entered Fourier’s sickroom, the bedridden prince laughed weakly and said, “Ferris, the makeup worked beautifully. Crusch thought my color was good… Ha-ha, we sure pulled the wool over her eyes. She’s so trusting.”

The makeup was something Ferris had applied so Fourier’s pallor would look healthier. Fourier had begged Ferris not to let him look bad in front of Crusch when she came to visit. Ferris was painfully aware that this had nothing to do with Fourier’s pride but instead his consideration for Crusch.

Ferris said nothing. Fourier spoke as if he could read the boy’s mind. “Nothing…troubling you with the knights, Ferris? Don’t forget to lean on your friend… Yes, on Julius. You try to take on too much by yourself sometimes.”

There were times these days when Ferris wasn’t sure who was comforting whom on these visits.

“My… My friends. You, Your Highness… You’re my only friend. Aren’t you? So when you aren’t feeling strong, I end up…by myself.”

“Certainly…not. Don’t worry, Ferris. You’re kind, and at heart you are strong. Everyone loves you…and will befriend you, as I have. I may have been your first friend, but you needn’t let me be your last. Remember this: Don’t force yourself to be alone.”

“Your Highness…”

Why was he talking like this, like this was the end? It wasn’t the end. And how could he seem so attuned to what Ferris was feeling? Fourier’s words had held real power lately. Not worldly power, but the piercing power of truth. It made Ferris afraid.

“Your Highness…! Your Highness, if anything happens to you…I’ll…”

“Bring me back to life? Please, don’t say such things.”

“—”

Fourier had read him like a book. He was lying on his bed and couldn’t have seen the tome in Ferris’s hand. Yet he had guessed exactly what Ferris had in mind and refused it.

“I am me, you understand. My life began when I began, and it should end when I end. For it to go on after I end—that isn’t right.”

“But…but why? Is it so strange that I want you to live? That I want someone who’s so important to me to be alive?”

Only as Ferris voiced the words did he realize they were exactly the same as those his father had babbled beside the corpse of his mother. If not word for word, then at the very least the spirit was identical.

“Don’t lament, Ferris. Your heart is precious. Be proud of your abilities… You have the kindest power in all the world. Count not the wounds you couldn’t heal, but the things you were able to save. Don’t try to look back all the time while you’re walking forward… I won’t allow it.”

“Your Highness…”

Slowly, so slowly, Fourier sat up in his bed. He had wasted away so much that he could no longer stand under his own power, but he wanted Ferris to see the spark of life burn within him. The scarlet eyes regained some measure of their former strength.

“And anyway,” he went on, “I may yet best this thing. I’m… Yes. I’m your friend, and the fourth prince of the Kingdom of Lugunica. I even defeated Crusch in a sword battle. A little illness should be a…walk in the park.”

Fourier raised his hand and gave Ferris a gentle tap on the forehead. His touch was so light, but his finger was warm.

“Don’t abandon your duty as a member of the royal guard… It was I who had you assigned as Crusch’s knight. Don’t betray the vow we made to each other. The promise we made…as friends.” Drawing long breaths, Fourier smiled again and lay back down on his bed. “I’ve grown tired with all this talking. But I was able to smile with you for the first time in a long time. That’s good.”

Ferris hadn’t smiled. All he had done in front of Fourier that day was weep. But Fourier never spoke wrong. What he said sometimes sounded mistaken, but always turned out to be true.

“It was fun, Ferris.”

So Ferris did everything he could to work his frozen cheeks into a smile.

“Right. This was fun, wasn’t it, Your Highness?”

5

—The day was clear, but a breeze put a chill in the air.

“Crusch…I’d like to go outside for a while. Could you lend me your hand?”

“Of course, Your Highness. If you’ll excuse me…”

“Oh! Carrying me yourself? Ha-ha! You are indeed a strong woman. I’m surprised again.”

In the courtyard garden of Lugunica’s royal castle, a profusion of seasonal flowers bloomed. But in the bustle and anxiety of the past several months, the colorful flora had found themselves rather lonely.

“Well, it’s nice without a crowd. All the better to appreciate the blossoms—you can see them so much more clearly. Don’t you think?”

“So you can. Your Highness is always so good at finding the bright side of things.”

“I am, aren’t I? I know quite a few good sides of you and Ferris, as well. In that, at least, I won’t be bested by Meckart.”

Crusch knelt in one corner of the garden, letting Fourier rest his head on her knees as the breeze drifted over them both. Fourier half closed his eyes sleepily, the garden floating in his fuzzy vision.

“You and I used to come here when we were young to view the flowers. Do you remember, Crusch?”

“I remember. I would accompany my father to the castle, and when I got bored, I would always come here…and you would always meet me. It was comforting to my childish heart.”

“The first time I saw you…”

“I’ll never forget it. You came tumbling out of the sky! I was shocked.”

Their conversation about the past began to blossom.

Crusch smiled as she remembered, but Fourier shook his head gently.

“You’re mistaken, actually. The first time I saw you was before that… I caught sight of you in this garden, from a distance. You were examining a young bud.”

“…I didn’t know. How embarrassing.”

“Hardly. I was taken with you immediately. My heart beat faster, my cheeks got hot, and all I could do was stand there and look at you. After that, I would always look for you… Truth be told, our meeting was no mere chance. Heh-heh. I’ll bet you were surprised.”

“Yes, very much so.”

Fourier’s eyes crinkled, and his teeth showed as he laughed.

Crusch ran her fingers gently through the golden hair that rested on her knees, patted the pale cheeks tenderly.

“On the subject of surprising you, allow me to confess the awesome plans I have for the future…”

“Yes, Your Highness. Please, surprise me again. Please tell me.”

“Very well. Listen closely. I… I intended to make you my queen.”

“—”

“I would make you my queen, and Ferris would be our knight. And then—then three of us could always be together. It would be cause for contentment like no other. What do you think of that?”

“You… You certainly do know how to surprise me…”

Crusch found her voice catching, discovered she couldn’t look at him.

Fourier, the gentle smile still on his face, listened closely to the note of joy in her voice.

“We’ve…been through quite a lot, haven’t we? I so desperately wanted your attention… Heh! It led me to put you and Ferris to a great deal of trouble.”

“…Your Highness. It was never a burden to do what you…”

“Tell me, Crusch… How did I do?”

“Your Highness?”

“Was I able…to be a Lion King worthy of your devotion…?”

“—”

They’d made a promise, once. They’d sworn by the pieces of the days they’d filled with laughter.

Crusch’s breathing grew strained at Fourier’s question.

“Your devotion was…precious,” he said. “Something I cherished. Don’t… Don’t ever forget that.”

Fourier smiled as if he were somehow proud of himself and raised his hand. He brushed Crusch’s cheek, touching the hot tears that flowed down it, and traced his fingers along the line of her lips.

“Crusch.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I…lo…”

“—”

There came a gust, a cold wind that tugged at Fourier’s and Crusch’s hair.

“Your Highness?”

“—”

“Your Highness, are you tired?”

“—”

“Your Highness, I know how you’ve worked and struggled. Please, rest peacefully.”

“—”

“One last thing…”

The breeze continued to blow. But with her blurring vision, Crusch didn’t see it, not even with her blessing. There, in the garden, Crusch held Fourier close and whispered.

“I wish I could have seen the future you dreamed of…”

6

The cruelty of it was that the death of Fourier Lugunica was treated almost as an incidental detail in the face of King Randohal Lugunica’s passing.

The assembly was all that was left now, shrouded in depression now that its worst fears had been realized. Crusch, for her part, was plunged into a sense of loss and apathy. Fourier had been such a crucial presence to her that losing him was as much a shock and as much a torment as losing half her body.

Even now, when she closed her eyes, she could see his last smile. The image of him taking his final breaths was burned into her memory.

And at the last, the feelings he had been unable to finish confessing had vanished into thin air.

“—But we cannot sit around looking sad forever.”

Miklotov was the first to cut through the thick atmosphere. The old sage looked each of the downcast nobles in the face, trying to rouse them.

“…That’s right,” someone said. “This isn’t the time. His Departed Majesty would be sorry to see us this way.”

There was a chorus of agreement. The sentiment spread, and Crusch found she had no choice but to look up and force herself to smile. To remain there with her head down would be the ultimate betrayal of what Fourier had wanted.

—She pictured his smiling face, remembered how he had always tried to look on the bright side.

“The royal bloodline has ended. We have lost our pact with the dragon. There can be no greater tragedy for the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica.”

With those words, the image in her mind shattered.

Crusch looked up, doubting her own ears, while someone in front of her clutched his head.

“How can the entire royal family be gone? What will the dragon do? If we lose our pact, it will be a catastrophe for our nation. What with our relations with the Empire and the Holy Kingdom being as poor as they are right now…!”

What is he talking about…?

“There’s also the issue of the preserved dragon’s blood. There is always the possibility that its return will be sought. To guard against this, we may see fit to go ahead and use it…”

What are any of you talking about…?

Crusch stared blankly as she listened to the grim-faced attendees deliberate. Everything they were talking about came back to the question of what the dragon would do now that the royal family had been extinguished. The Kingdom of Lugunica had been under the dragon’s blessing, saved from crisis more than once by the creature. Their fear was valid; Crusch was as aware as any of them that they were reliant on the dragon. But was that really the first thing they should be lamenting?

If they had wanted to debate the future of the kingdom, that would have been fine. If they had been worried about negotiating with other countries now that the king was gone, she could have forgiven them. But discussing how to manipulate the dragon—was that really the first thing on their minds?

With mounting disgust, it dawned on Crusch: None of these people were really unhappy that the royal line had ended. What they were worried about was the implications of it—whether the dragon would abandon them. They were terrified of being turned out from the cradle of the dragon’s blessings. The death of the king, the end of the royal family—these were secondary considerations.

To them, Fourier’s death is hardly a footnote.

The terrible thing was that if Crusch had not been so close to Fourier, she would no doubt be embracing the same fears as the rest of them. Her soul would be just as lukewarm as theirs.

That way of living, above all others, repulsed Crusch. She could hardly bear it as it cast a dark shadow over her heart.

“There is a matter I must share with you all.”

The words cut through the furor of the assembly, and all eyes turned to the speaker.

It was Baron Lyp Bariel. He was not of high noble rank, but had been a favorite of His Majesty Randohal and much valued by the departed king. When Lyp had sufficient attention from the crowd, he made his announcement in a shaking voice.

“—There is a new inscription on the Dragon Tablet. The dragon has already revealed the fate of the kingdom.”

This caused a fresh uproar in the assembly hall. The Dragon Tablet was a stone, a gift from the dragon and one of the kingdom’s treasures. It recorded the future of the nation. A number of times in the past, the stone had warned the kingdom of threats to come, and they had been able to make preparations in advance.

No sooner had they been reflecting on how much they needed the dragon than they had been reminded in the most painful way of its power. Ignoring the feelings of Crusch and the others, Lyp began to read the inscription in a hurried tone.

“It says: ‘Upon this, the end of the royal house, the kingdom shall find five candidates chosen by the Dragon Jewels, and with a new shrine maiden, the pact shall be made anew.’”

“The Dragon Tablet is telling us to choose a new king…? But how are we to find these five candidates?!”

“There are insignias,” Lyp replied hotly, “jewels passed down by the royal house of Lugunica, which point to their pact with the dragon. The insignias bear those jewels, which will shine when held by one who is qualified as a candidate!”

At a gesture from Lyp, a cart was wheeled into the circular assembly room. Atop the cart were shimmering gemstones, the insignias of the Kingdom of Lugunica that bore the Dragon Jewels.

“If it recognizes you as a loyal retainer who can truly lead the kingdom, the insignia shall choose you. Does the Dragon Tablet speak false? Let each of you be tested in turn.”

One of Lyp’s assistants went among the people seated in the hall, putting the insignia before each of them. Some broke out in a cold sweat as they looked down upon it. Others gulped. If it were to glow in their hand, the path to the kingship would open.

The insignia was set in front of Crusch, as well. They said the dragon sought those who were loyal to the kingdom. If that were so, then surely she, as she was now, would not be chosen. But if…

“Then let us begin the test,” Miklotov said. The Council of Elders went first, taking the insignia in hand. But there was no change in the darkened gem. There were some quiet breaths, and the slightest sounds of disappointment. So the test of the insignia began, working its way outward from the council. Disappointment after disappointment, and then came Crusch’s turn.

The insignia was a triangular obsidian stone carved with a dragon design worked in gold. In the very center was the red gem called the Dragon Jewel, the stone that mocked the vain ambitions of those who were not fit to rule.

“The dragon? Who cares about…?” Crusch whispered, not letting the words out of her mouth as she grasped the insignia. She held it out in her palm for all to see. And then…

“—Oh, my…”

This came from Miklotov, whose normally placid face bore an unusual look of surprise. Everyone else in the room clearly felt the same way.

The insignia in Crusch’s hand was glowing brightly.

“—So it seems even I, inept as I am, can do something for our kingdom.”

She felt no shock. Her heart was too calm for that. As this registered with her, Crusch raised her head and closed her eyes.

—And in the darkness, she thought she saw Fourier’s last smile.

7

When Ferris found out about the royal election, and that Crusch was one of those who had been chosen to stand, he combed the castle looking for her, until he arrived in the garden.

“—Lady Crusch.”

Standing before the flowers, she looked so fragile that he had hesitated to call out. And no wonder. This was where she had spent those last moments with Fourier. It was the most holy place in Crusch’s heart, the one place even Ferris could not enter.

He felt the pain of his own powerlessness as keenly as if a blade were digging into his chest. If only he could run to her, embrace her shoulders, and cast some magic spell that would heal her heart.

“Ferris, is that you? Well done, finding me here.”

She spoke without looking back at Ferris, who bit his lip at his feelings of helplessness.

Now and again the wind gusted, picking up Crusch’s long hair. Ferris watched her hair blow as he said, “I heard about the Dragon Tablet. They said you’re one of the candidates to become the next king, Lady Crusch.”

“Yes, so it seems. The dragon appears to have looked favorably on me.”

Ferris could hardly have remained calm at this buffeting from the currents of fate. He had joined the royal guard, his mother and father had died, and he had lost Fourier, his bond with whom had meant so much. Now Crusch, his harbor in every storm, was caught up in some kind of royal election. Was there nothing safe or stable for him?

“What can I do for you, Lady Crusch? I don’t know what to do…”

He didn’t want to cause her any additional trouble, but he couldn’t keep a quaver out of his voice. Ferris was too small a vessel to hold the emotions that roiled within him. Tears blurred his vision, and he wanted to run from the garden.

“Ferris, look at me.” Crusch’s voice made him jump.

He heard footsteps, and then two feet entered his downcast view. He raised his head and found himself looking straight at Crusch. The magic in her amber eyes captivated him.

“Ferris, let me vow to you before anyone else—I do wish to become king.”

“Lady…Crusch…” Ferris caught his breath at her unhesitating declaration.

She was telling him she aspired to prevail at the royal election and ultimately take the throne. Ferris could not say anything further, but Crusch glanced around them and said, “The first time I met His Highness, it was in this garden. We often talked here and looked at the flowers together.” She spoke gently; her eyes showed that she was remembering something long past.

Ferris didn’t need to ask who it was she was remembering.

“In time, His Highness began to call at our mansion. I never told you, did I? Until I met His Highness, I always tied my hair back. Now I merely use a ribbon to keep it neat.”

“I never knew. Why did you stop tying it up?”

“His Highness told me to be faithful to myself. So that was what I did. I chose the ribbon I gave to you, but…it began with His Highness.”

Ferris unconsciously touched the white ribbon Crusch had given him, which he still wore in his hair.

She shared one memory after another with him, things he hadn’t known—but one by one, they became memories he and Crusch shared. A bond so beautiful and so lively that he couldn’t stop the flood of tears, or the ocean of smiles.

“Ferris, the time that we…that His Highness and you and I shared together…is something I cherish.”

From the day Crusch had led Ferris from the Argyle mansion and first made him human, he had always been with her, and his circle soon expanded to include Fourier as well. A great deal of his life was made up of the two of them.

“But the existence of the dragon undermines that precious time of ours,” she went on. “For many, His Highness existed only as a way of continuing the pact. They don’t mourn his death, not really.” Ferris stiffened; fire danced in Crusch’s eyes.

What had she seen? What had happened during that time when Ferris couldn’t be with her?

“But he did exist, enough to carve himself into my heart and yours. Fourier Lugunica well and truly lived.”

With her right hand she touched her chest, and with her left hand, his. It was just a brush of her fingers, but Ferris thought the heat in them might burn his whole body. The fire of her resolve would swallow up every extraneous thought.

“The man who was my Lion King did live. I shall never allow anyone to say he didn’t.”

The pact with the dragon embracing the kingdom had protected the people for a very long time. But it had made their hearts weak, so much so that they were willing to ignore the death of this kind boy who had been loved by everyone he met. People’s hearts had grown so frail that Fourier’s death was all but forgotten in the face of the pact with the dragon.

“His death belongs to him. My Lion King is within me even now. I still dream the dream my king had—I alone can achieve it.”

No one else saw how twisted the life of the kingdom had become. Everyone toadied to the dragon, begged favors from it, relied on its help, and in the process they had all forgotten how to walk on their own.

“No ruler but me will try to correct this, for nobody remembers those who sought to be true kings. So it falls to us to do it.”

“Lady Crusch,” Ferris whispered.

Crusch held out to him a dagger she’d taken from her belt. He took it and found that it was inscribed with the symbol of the Lion King. This was a precious heirloom of the House of Karsten.

“His Highness had a dream—of you, and me, and him, the three of us, building the future together.”

“The three of us… Me, with His Highness, and you, Lady Crusch…?”

Faced with the striking weight of the dagger in his hand, Ferris finally realized what he had to do alongside Crusch and His Highness, to help in their resolution. Now, he had only Crusch. She was everything.

“His Highness loved this place,” Crusch said somberly, “and it’s where he spent his last moments. So I swear to him here: I will make you my knight.”

At that, Ferris knelt wordlessly and offered up the dagger. Crusch took it and drew it, touching Ferris first on the left shoulder, then on the right, with the flat of the blade. Then she gave the knife back to him, completing the ritual of vassalage.

No one knew a knighthood had been bestowed there that day—except one, or perhaps two, Lion Kings who were present. And it was a beginning, and for the two of them, it was also the continuation of the dream of their Lion King.

Crusch glanced back over her shoulder. “We’re going, Ferris. To reclaim our kingdom from the dragon and make His Highness’s dream come true.”

“Yes, Lady Crusch. Lead me, and I’ll follow. We’ll find where His Highness’s dream takes us.” There was no hesitation as he joined her. The first of the candidates for king, the one most strongly bound to her attendant, walked proudly away. The only ones watching were the flowers in that garden where everything had begun.

Bobbing gently in the breeze, a single bud waited tranquilly for the right moment to bloom.

<END>