Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 3 - Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

A Book’s Worth

Felix brought Monica into a narrower street branching off the main road. Decorative lanterns were practically everywhere in town, so they hadn’t needed any light before, but that didn’t apply to the backstreets. Once they’d gotten away from the roar of the festival, Felix removed his mask, then took a personal lantern from his belt and lit it.

“It’s a little farther down this road,” he said. “It’s dark, so watch your step.”

“Um, where are we going, Ike?”

“It’s a shop that doesn’t have anything to do with the Bell-Ringing Festival but one I enjoy nonetheless. And I think you will, too.”

Felix gave her a mischievous wink. His voice was full of excitement, and his steps were light as he walked through the night.

Monica followed after him, hesitating in the dark, unfamiliar lane. “You’re really good at enjoying the nightlife, Ike.”

“Mm. I’ve probably tried every kind of popular entertainment the kingdom has to offer by now.”

“Oh, I see,” replied Monica very seriously. “You’re a professional at this.”

Society at large had less attractive names for such a person. Felix responded with a hearty laugh. The lantern in his hand jittered as he shook.

“A friend of mine once told me something,” he explained, stopping to look up at the sky.

Monica followed suit. The twinkling of the stars above seemed fainter than usual, probably because the entire town was lit up.

That pale twinkling reflecting in his eyes, Felix continued. “‘I want you to find something that excites you—for your own enjoyment and nobody else’s. I want you to find all kinds of things that interest and entertain you.’ Ever since then, I’ve been searching for it—something that really excites me.”

Monica lowered her gaze from the sky and looked at the prince. His expression revealed an emptiness and a resigned sort of sadness. She had seen all sorts of new looks on him that day. His genuine smile as he enjoyed the festival and this hollow expression, like he’d already given up on what he claimed to be searching for.

It all seemed incongruous, and it troubled her. What sort of things would he even find “fun”?

The second prince was a genius at everything he did, blessed with charisma, looks, and talent in every field you could think of. But she doubted any of it really excited him.

He’d tried every form of entertainment people generally sought out, gone through the motions, and pretended he was having a good time…all the while sighing and thinking to himself, This isn’t it.

And yet he was still looking—all to fulfill his friend’s request.

“If I become king one day, I’ll lose all my free time. If that happens, I won’t be able to fool around like this anymore. Essentially, this time—the time I can spend as a ghost—is like the remainder of my life as myself.”

“You want to be king…even though you’ll lose your freedom?”

“Want to? I don’t want to become king.”

Felix shook his head slowly and looked down at Monica. All expression had vanished from his attractive features, and his sapphire-blue eyes had lost their luster.

“I have to become king.”

That’s right, thought Monica. Being born into royalty means you have to aim for the throne. That was probably a feeling she’d never understand.

Topics regarding royal succession were extremely delicate. If she asked something in the wrong way, it could be taken as an insult to Felix’s fitness to rule.

Monica bowed deeply. “Ummm, I’m really sorry for asking something so rude.”

“No, I don’t mind. I’m just happy you were interested in me enough to ask. You’ve seemed shockingly uninterested in me in the past, after all.”

As Monica faltered, Felix turned his gaze ahead and added some brightness to his voice. “Oh, look! We’re almost there.”

Near the far end of the small street was an old brick house. A small lamp and a wooden placard hung from the door; the lamp’s orange glow illuminated the words on the placard.

The simple, unadorned sign read PORTER USED BOOKS in rough letters.

“Monica, this isn’t something I tell everyone, but this shop is my favorite of them all. There’s something inside that truly excites me,” he said in a singsong voice, opening the door.

Within, bookshelves were lined up at regular intervals. The aisles between them were narrow, just barely enough for one person to squeeze past another.

Without any hesitation, Felix strode over to the aisle between the second and third shelves from the right. Monica let down her hood and followed him.

The shop was filled with the scent of old books and bug-repelling herbs. She glanced at the books here and there; they were all packed in tightly and included academic volumes on herbology, medicine, and the like.

After passing through the aisle, they came to a small counter, where a man sat writing something by lamplight. He wore glasses and had tan skin and frizzy black hair. His eyes were almond-shaped, and his features were very pronounced—he must have been from another country. She couldn’t really tell his age. He looked both twenty and forty simultaneously.

The planks in the old shop creaked under their feet, so he must have noticed them enter, but he never lifted his face from the pages.

“Hey, good evening, Porter.”

The man still didn’t look up, even when Felix spoke to him. But neither did he look so absorbed in his work that he wouldn’t have heard. After a moment, he stopped writing, dipped his feather pen in an inkwell, and said simply, “…Hello,” before resuming his writing. Whatever he was working on, it didn’t look like accounts—he was using lined composition paper.

At any rate, he didn’t bother to change his curt attitude, despite Felix’s friendliness. The man was clearly an eccentric.

“Monica, this is Porter,” explained Felix. “He’s both the shop’s owner and a novelist. For about half the year, he’s running all over the place stocking up on books. We’re fortunate to have run into him today.”

“Indeed,” said Porter. “Just got back from a trip the other day. Found a few books you’d probably enjoy.”

“Really?!” exclaimed Felix, his face lighting up.

Porter used his pen to point to a bookshelf near the wall. Apparently, that was where the books Felix would enjoy were located.

Felix plucked something from the shelf the man had indicated. “Oh!” he cried. “An old issue of Minerva Springs!”

Monica’s eyes went wide when she saw the magazine he’d picked up.

Minerva’s Mage Training Institution published a magazine twice a year compiling the results of their students’ and teachers’ research, and that periodical was called Minerva Springs. Naturally, as Monica had been an honors student there, several issues had featured her own theses.

Why would he want Minerva Springs?! she wondered. Eighty percent of those magazines were just about magecraft. The other 20 percent generally comprised essays from professors about their hobbies and tips to make life as a student more comfortable.

Maybe he’s a big fan of those essays where the professors talk about hair restoration… That had to be it—there was no other option. Either that or he was looking for tips on student life.

As Monica tried to convince herself of this, Felix flipped through the pages of the magazine, eyes sparkling like he was a little kid.

“This has one of the Silent Witch’s essays!”

Monica gasped and stifled a shriek. Did he just say “the Silent Witch”? I must have misheard… Yeah, I misheard…

As she paled, Porter stopped writing for a moment and remarked, “The three issues there all include an essay from the Silent Witch. And the newest issue has a fairly recent contribution.”

“Porter! You do such an excellent job!”

Felix sounded overjoyed. Indeed, he seemed positively jubilant. Monica had never seen his eyes light up like this. This was too many surprises at once for Monica, and it left her in a daze.

The prince laughed a little bashfully. “Surprised?” he asked. “I’m actually quite interested in magecraft.”

“Um, but didn’t you say you weren’t taking fundamental magecraft…?”

“There’s a good reason for that. I’m forbidden from studying anything related to the subject.”

Monica was surprised. Many members of Ridill’s royal family excelled at magecraft, and several talented mages had been part of their line. The current king was himself a user of earth magecraft, and Felix’s older brother—the first prince—had graduated from Minerva’s. She couldn’t imagine why they’d forbid Felix from studying it.

As Monica mulled this over, Felix continued to speak as he flipped through the pages, his enthusiasm obvious.

“Grimoires are mostly huge and expensive, right? And you need special permission to purchase or even view some of them. It’s such a pain to secretly acquire and store them in my room.”

On the other hand, Minerva Springs was comparatively easy to obtain, so the prince had opted for those instead. However, the essays that made it into the magazine were very carefully selected. In order to understand them, you would need at least intermediate knowledge of magecraft. How much does Felix know? she wondered.

Still perusing the magazine, Felix continued at length. “The last essay I read by the Silent Witch was incredible. It had to do with the positional coordinates of wide-area spells. I couldn’t believe she’d written it when she was just a student. To summarize, rather than adding a tracking formula to a wide-area spell, she proposes triggering the formula directly in front of the targets, increasing the spell’s accuracy and precision—but the way she calculates the positional coordinates is simply revolutionary, allowing her to considerably abbreviate the formula itself…”

Monica nodded along, grimacing. Yes, she thought. Yes, that’s right… Modern tracking formulae have too many flaws, so rather than waiting for them to improve, I wanted to try creating a wide-area spell with a high degree of accuracy that didn’t rely on them… Oh nooo, he understood everything perfectlyyy!

As she stood there trembling, Felix looked at her and added, slightly embarrassed, “I’m sorry. I’m actually a huge fan of the Silent Witch. Once I get started talking about her, I go on and on.”

“A-a fan…?”

“Yeah. The Silent Witch has made an unmistakably significant contribution to the field of magecraft in our kingdom. And her unchanted spells…they’re so beautiful.” He looked completely enraptured as he said the last part.

But Monica couldn’t pay attention to that right now. He saw me using unchanted magecraft?! Oh no, when did that happen?! I haven’t been exposed…have I? Please say I haven’t! Oh nooo!

“I’d never seen such beautiful magecraft before in my life. Ahhh, I do so wish I could see it in person just one more time.” He sighed sadly.

“At the moment,” chimed in Porter, “I’m in the middle of writing a scene in my new novel about a foolish man who falls in love with a theater actress. Abram, the main character’s friend, is head over heels for the actress Catherine, and at every opportunity, he says, ‘I want to see her perform in person just one more time.’ You sound exactly like him right now.”

“Ahhh, Porter, you may be right. Yes, this must be what they call first love.”

F-first love…? Monica’s whole body began to twitch. She was so overwhelmed, the link between her brain and facial muscles was malfunctioning. What should I do? I’d kind of like to pay a visit to the world of numbers.

“Surprised?” asked the prince. “This is what excites me at the moment.”

“U-um, have you ever, well, met the Silent Witch?” she asked, her face pale.

Felix nodded, entranced, his cheeks flushing a rosy red. Then he whispered to Monica so that Porter couldn’t hear. “At her inauguration and at the New Year’s ceremony. But she always wears a hood, so almost nobody has seen what she looks like. And she doesn’t join the post-ceremony parties, so I’ve never talked to her or seen her face.”

Thank goodness, thought Monica. My identity is safe, at least. She sighed in relief.

Her relief, however, was premature.

“But once I become king, it’ll be no problem—I’ll be able to meet her whenever I wish. The Seven Sages are like advisers to the king, after all.”

That was a huge problem for Monica.

“Once I’m king, I’ll be able to speak with her directly… Maybe she’ll even let me see her face.”

Please, no, I’m not good enough to be an adviser to His Majesty! In fact, I want to apologize right now for disappointing you in the future!

Ultimately, Monica looked down at her feet and clutched her stomach. For starters, she swore she’d keep her ceremonial appearances to an absolute minimum and never, ever remove her hood.

“By the way, are you interested in used bookstores at all, Monica?”

“Oh, um, yes…”

Felix’s comments had given her a bit of a stomachache, but used bookstores still made her heart dance. And here, they had all sorts of books—from relatively recent publications to rare antiques from before the development of printing or bookbinding.

A quick look around revealed about half the shelves were filled with fictional novels for the masses, while the other half held more practical books and academic tomes. There were even a few rare books that had gone out of print.

“May I, um, take a look at the books as well?”

“Of course! That’s why I brought you here,” Felix said, nodding before going back to fishing through the issues of Minerva Springs. He must have been really looking forward to this.

Monica couldn’t read anything related to magecraft in Felix’s presence, so she decided to check the shelves for books on mathematics instead. The shelf right in front of them had a bunch of volumes on medicine and biology. But then, alongside them, she spotted a familiar name and gasped.

Discerning Magical Disposition from Inherited Traits by Venedict Reyn.

The book had been published five years prior—and after its author was executed for his research into forbidden magecraft, they’d been collected and burned.

Monica’s hand was drawn to it. She took it and—shaking—turned to the first page. The very first sentence was one she’d heard many a time.

The world is filled with numbers.

The contents were difficult to understand without knowledge of both biology and magecraft, and because Monica hadn’t focused on biology in school, she could understand only around half of it.

But she still remembered the numbers in the tables and graphs.

This… This is my father’s book…!

It was proof that her father—executed as a heretic for breaking a magecraft taboo—had lived. She recalled those burning books—their pages shredded and reduced to ash.

And now, those numbers she’d burned into her memory in an attempt to preserve at least something were right before her eyes, complete.

Monica clutched the book to her chest and ran over to Porter. “Excuse me! Could I… I’d like this book! Um, please!”

Porter looked up from his composition paper and stared at her. When he saw the title of the book, his eyes widened slightly behind the frames of his glasses. “A friend of mine left that book when he passed. I’ve no intention of selling it cheaply.”

Monica was shocked to learn this Porter fellow had been a friend of her late father’s. But she couldn’t discuss her father now—not in front of Felix.

Suppressing her astonishment, she leaned forward a little and asked, “How much?”

Porter held up two fingers. Technical books like these generally cost around one silver coin. She’d assumed he was asking for two silver coins, but…

“Two gold coins.”

Monica was speechless. Two gold coins was enough money to support a commoner living humbly for quite a while.

As one of the Seven Sages, she had enough saved away to build a house in the royal capital. But she so seldom had opportunities to go shopping that she never carried around money like that.

“Um, I promise I’ll pay for it at some point… Would you be able to put it aside?”

“How many years do you think it’d take a kid like you to save up two gold coins?”

“Oof…”

She was perfectly capable of paying the two gold coins. But if she said that now, it would reveal who she actually was.

As she was desperately racking her brain over how to ask the man to set it aside for her, Felix, suddenly next to her at the counter, put down two gold coins.

“That should solve the problem, right?”

Monica’s eyes flew open. She looked up at Felix. “No! No, you can’t! I can’t possibly ask you to pay that much money for—”

“Think of it as hush money for keeping quiet about this little excursion of mine,” said Felix, tilting his head to the side and grinning. “Accessories don’t make you happy, but this will, right?”

“W-well, but two whole gold coins?!”

“I don’t know how much that book is worth on the market, but to you, it’s worth at least that much, isn’t it?”

The moment she heard those words, tears began to fall from Monica’s eyes.

Everyone had ridiculed her father’s research—those burning books—as worthless. They’d ripped them, torn them, and tossed them into the flames. It didn’t matter how much Monica insisted they were worth. Nobody listened. In fact, her uncle had beaten her for it—he didn’t even want her trying to tell people.

Don’t say anything that’ll get us into trouble. Over and over. Relentlessly.

Felix couldn’t have known this book’s worth. But he’d recognized that Monica cared for it a great deal, and he’d accepted that. She was so happy. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks as she nodded again and again.

The prince leaned over a little and wiped her flowing tears with his finger. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Monica sniffled, then managed to twist her face into an awkward smile. “Thank…thank you, Ike.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, returning her smile.

Sparing them only a glance, Porter picked up the payment. “That’s two gold coins. The book is yours.”

He held the book out to Monica—her father’s book, now worth two gold coins.

Monica wiped her tears on her sleeve and took the book, hands shaking. And then, clutching it to her breast, she bowed deeply to Porter and Felix both. “Thank you… Thank you for giving this book so much worth.”

“If someone overcharges you, shouldn’t you get mad and call them a swindler or something?” murmured Porter, appalled.

But Monica shook her head. Her father had never shown interest in how other people appraised or valued his work, but she was far, far happier this way than if his book had been sold cheaply.

As she stood there, hugging the book to her chest, nose red from crying and a happy smile on her face, Felix watched over her with a kind gaze—like he was reminiscing on bygone days or recalling an irreplaceable memory.

When they left Porter Used Books, they found the mood in town had changed. The roar of the festival they’d been hearing from the main road earlier had completely died down.

“The magical dedication must be starting,” said Felix just as the bell tower began to ring. The sound of the large bell blended with the soft jingling of the smaller bells decorating the town’s streets.

Monica sensed the flow of mana around her begin to change. She looked down and saw golden droplets of light drifting up from the ground, floating into the air. The smaller ones would stick together, steadily growing larger as they ascended soundlessly into the sky.

The Starseer Witch is using Starweaving Mira to absorb mana from the land…

The drops of light rose from all across town before drifting toward the church, as though of their own volition. When they eventually reached their destination, they spread out into the air overhead like smoke from a chimney. The accumulated mana in the land was being returned to the sky.

Originally, the Bell-Ringing Festival was a harvest festival for giving thanks to the King of the Earth Spirits. But through the legend of the underworld watchman sneaking out to make merry…it had shifted into a festival for mourning the souls of the dead.

There were several spells used for magical dedications like these, but Monica felt she understood why magicule release had been the method chosen for the festival.

The night skies were the realm of the Goddess of Darkness, who ruled over the underworld. The sight of all these golden droplets climbing up to the stars evoked the image of the souls of the dead returning to the underworld. And wasn’t that why everyone was ringing their bells?

Monica joined them, ringing the bell affixed to the staff in her right hand, hugging her father’s book tightly in her left, and shutting her eyes.

On this festival night where the dead came to visit, she had, indeed, met her late father.

Dad…, she thought. Someday, I’ll be able to tell you proudly that I’ve done my best.

And when Monica passed through the underworld’s gates herself one day, she hoped he’d stroke her hair, just like he always had.

…I’ll try my hardest.

Beside her as she prayed for her departed father, Felix said softly, “They look like stars.”

He gazed without blinking at the radiant lights rising into the night sky. Was he, too, thinking of someone he’d never meet again?

“Ike, do you want to ring the bell, too?” asked Monica, her voice subdued.

Felix looked blankly at the bell gently swinging from the tip of her staff and gave a single nod. After a short word of thanks, he took the staff from her and rang the bell.

Between its jingles, Monica heard him speaking—to himself, perhaps.

“I’ve always wanted to tell my friend this.”

He didn’t offer any silent prayers. Instead, he looked up at the lights dancing among the stars.

“I promise I’ll make your wish come true.”

Monica suspected his friend was no longer of this world, and so she thought it best not to pry.

If he was able to ring a bell and mourn, then all her efforts to protect the festival had been worth it.

When the two of them returned to Madam Cassandra’s, a big feast was being held on the first floor. Monica didn’t know what this shop was usually like, but it was probably even livelier right now on account of the festival.

Felix gestured for Monica to follow, then led her up to a private room near the back of the second floor and opened the door. The room itself was much larger than Monica had imagined. It must have been made for hosting nobility. It seemed they maintained the room so that it would be ready whenever the customer returned—a whole pile of fruit sat on a dish atop a low table, and both the furnace and candles were already lit.

“Um, Ike. I…w-well…,” Monica stammered, fidgeting as she looked up at the prince. She’d been holding this in for a long time now.

Felix smiled softly and nodded, seeming to understand exactly how she felt. “I know. I’m actually thinking the same thing.”

Their cheeks were slightly red, having left the cold for the warmth of the room. They gazed into each other’s eyes.

Then they held up the books in their hands. Monica held the volume her father had written, and Felix the issues of Minerva Springs.

“Um! Can I read this, please?”

“Of course. I can’t wait to open mine, either.”

No words were necessary after that. They joyously flopped down on the sofa and opened their books.

The moment you first open a new book is a special treat. Particularly if it’s a book you’d really, really wanted.

Even for a Sage, the contents of Monica’s father’s book were very difficult. Nevertheless, she was overjoyed she could now understand the equations and magic formulae that had gone over her head as a child. Absorbed, she flipped through page after page.

The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the wood in the furnace and the turning of pages.

Eventually, they heard a light rap on the door, and it opened.

“Here, sir! I brought you some snacks and wine.”

Into the room came Doris, one of the shop’s prostitutes, her cherry-blond hair swaying as she moved. She held a basket full of snacks and wine in one hand. Unfortunately, both Monica and Felix were so absorbed in reading that neither of them looked up at her.

Doris glanced between the two of them, appalled, and exclaimed, “Hey, hey! A man and woman together this late at night, and you’re having a reading party?! Surely healthy young people have better things to do!”

Felix finally looked up at her. “Oh, Doris. Drinks? You can leave them over there. I’m just getting to the good part,” he said before lowering his gaze back to his magazine.

Doris set the basket on the low table, then tried pressing Monica instead. “Miss! Are you going to let him treat you like this?! He’s basically saying you’re hopelessly unattractive!”

Monica heard the words but didn’t actually think about them before speaking out of reflex. “Yes! Inherited traits have usually been thought of as the result of two natures mixing together like fluids, but this book proposes the idea of tiny grains called hereditary particles. These particles are like the blueprints for a person, determining their mana capacity and what elements they—”

“All right, enough with the completely unalluring discussion!” Doris took a drink from her basket and poured it into a glass, then pushed it at Monica. Was it warm fruit juice? Round slices of citrus fruit floated on its surface, and it had a sweet, honey-like scent.

“Drink this!” commanded Doris.

“Oh. Okay.”

Suddenly realizing her throat was parched, Monica gulped it down. The liquid had been cooled to a perfect drinking temperature.

And that was the point at which her mind essentially shut off.

“Here—you too, sir!”

Felix moved only his eyes to glance at the glass she was holding out to him. It contained warmed white wine with citrus slices and honey. He accepted the drink, took a single small sip, and narrowed his eyes. “Mm. A little wine while I read isn’t such a bad idea.”

“That’s not what the wine is for!” yelled Doris.

Monica closed her book and stood up without a word. Her eyes looked somehow muddled, unfocused.

“What’s wrong, Monica?” asked Felix.

Monica’s lips moved as she muttered something incomprehensible before saying in a garbled voice, “…It’s hot.”

The next moment, Monica was taking off her clothes. It happened in a flash—Felix didn’t even have time to stop her.

And Monica’s odd behavior didn’t stop there—she wobbled unsteadily over to him, grasped one of his hands with both of hers, then turned it so it was facing upward. Squeezing it a few times, she murmured unhappily.

“No paw…”

“What?”

Monica took his palm and stuck it to her cheek. Her face was soft and heated from the alcohol, and it felt good as she pressed his hand against it, but he had no idea what she wanted.

As he stood there bewildered, Monica’s eyelids drooped sadly. “No paaaaw…”

She started to sniffle, then managed to guide herself into the bed. There she curled up in her underwear, like some kind of small animal.

“I want to be a cat…,” she muttered. And with that mysterious declaration, her breathing evened, and she fell fast asleep.

Doris looked at Felix and asked with a straight face, “Sir, have you adopted a cat?”

“Hmm,” said the prince. “I’ve never seen her do that before, either. I’m honestly baffled.”

“What was that about paws?”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

As they looked toward the bed, Monica murmured in her sleep, a smile on her face.

“Looks like that’s it for tonight,” said Felix.

“You’re terrible, sir. And with such a good woman right in front of you.” Pouting, Doris began to clean up the table. She was sharp enough to realize Felix had no such intentions.

Right before exiting the room, Doris blew him a friendly kiss and winked. “I’ll be on the floor below. If you get lonely, you’re welcome anytime.”

With that, she took her leave. Felix appreciated the woman’s clarity and decisiveness.

He could hear soft rustling and light snoring from the bed, as well as a little bit of sleep talking. He listened in, wondering what sort of dream she was having, but all she murmured were numbers. Even in her dreams, they were all she thought about.

“Good night, Monica,” he whispered before putting out the candles.

For the first time in a while, he dreamed.

In an elegantly furnished room, a boy held a necklace in his palm as he muttered to himself.

Every once in a while, the boy would look over a page in an open grimoire to his side, then turn back to the necklace, reciting the chant written in the book with some difficulty.

“What are you doing, Lord Felix?”

Felix immediately looked up at the servant boy who had called his name.

“I heard this necklace my mother left behind has a high earth spirit in it,” he explained. “I thought that if I could make a pact with a spirit, too, Grandfather would be proud of me!”

The servant boy shook his head. “That’s not possible.”

“Huh?”

As his young master froze in confusion, the servant made a difficult expression, then explained. “In order to form a pact with a high spirit, your elemental specialty—determined at birth—needs to be the same as the spirit’s. Your specialty is different, so you can’t make a contract with that one.”

“Oh no…” Felix looked at the necklace in his hand with disappointment.

He had no talent for academics or athletics, and he had a poor constitution and frequently fell ill. What’s more, he was extremely shy, so he couldn’t speak very well in front of others, either. He was a weak young man—never able to meet his grandfather’s expectations.

“Why can’t I ever please Grandfather?” murmured Felix, tears welling in his eyes.

The servant boy gazed at his young master, then said quietly, “Please forgive me a moment’s indignity.”

“…Huh?”

The servant boy peeled back his jacket, revealing a book fastened to his body underneath.

“I want you to have this,” he said, holding it out to Felix.

When Felix saw the book’s title, his eyes lit up. It was about astronomy. He loved the stars in the night sky, but all the adults told him a prince had no need for such knowledge. If he had time to waste on such a subject, they said, he should spend it studying something more practical. And if any of them found him with a book on astronomy, they would confiscate it.

That was why the servant had needed to fasten such a thick book to his small body in order to sneak it in for Felix.

“But everyone says it’s pointless for me to have any books on astronomy…,” said Felix, his voice a mix of joy and unease.

He wanted nothing more than to read books about his favorite field, but nobody around him would permit it. He was already behind in his studies—and that left him uneasy. Was it really okay for him to have this?

As he hung his head, his servant said gently, “But those books are important to you, aren’t they?”

At those words, tears began to stream down Felix’s face. Always quick to cry, the prince sniffled but still managed a scrunched smile. “He-he… Thanks. I’m really happy.”

The servant looked at his young master with kind eyes, as though he was watching over a younger brother.

That evening, Felix was called to his grandfather’s room. Inside, he stood, his face white.

Before the duke knelt the boy’s young servant. His upper body was naked, and his pale back was horribly swollen with whip marks from his punishment.

“Grandfather… Wh-why…?”

“Apparently, this thing has given you something unnecessary,” said the duke, his gaze moving to the book on the table.

It was the astronomy book Felix’s servant had brought for him. Felix had been hiding it in his room, but a different servant had found it.

Felix’s face went even paler. He lowered his head. “I-I’m sorry. B-but you’re wrong. It’s not his fault. I forced him to do it…”

“Then he obeyed your orders instead of mine? To think a mere servant would mistake his master.”

The duke brought the whip down on the servant’s back. The dry pop made Felix’s breath catch in his throat.

“Please stop!” he begged. “Please! Please, I won’t ask for any more astronomy books, I promise. Please…”

“Then throw that book into the furnace.”

Felix did as the duke commanded. He picked up the book from the table and brought it over to the furnace. Finally, with trembling hands, he tossed his precious tome into the fire.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…,” he wept as he watched the pages burn away.

The duke snorted. “I heard you made a fool of yourself during your dance lessons today.”

“I-I’m sorr—”

Another snap as the whip came down again—not on Felix but on the back of the kneeling servant. The duke knew perfectly well that harming the servant would be more effective than harming the prince directly.

“This is all because you’re preoccupied with astronomy, of all things.”

“I-I’m really, really sorry! I’m really sorry… Next time… Next time I’ll do it right! I’ll never bring shame upon you again, I promise. So…”

The duke whipped the boy’s back a final time, then said lowly, “You will not have another chance.”

“…Yes, sir.” Felix nodded, shaking all over.

The duke looked at him, gaze colder than a winter lake. “How deplorable that Aileen’s son turned out to be a miserable failure like you.”

It’s been a while since I’ve dreamed about that, thought Felix, awake now and composed.

It was still dark beyond the curtains. Not much time had passed since he’d gotten into bed.

Suddenly, something near his stomach squirmed. It was Monica.

His dream had probably been the result of seeing her expression in the used bookstore. She had hugged the book to her chest, her face scrunched up as she cried, and yet she’d been smiling the whole time—just like that young boy with the astronomy book.

He’d bought the book for her on a whim, but he had sincerely wanted to make her smile—he’d wanted her to be happy.

“I’m glad it made you happy.”

Felix pulled Monica, whose warm body was still curled up at his stomach, a little closer, then closed his eyes again, a feeling of calm washing over him.

Back at the church, in the little room to the side of the altar, the Starseer Witch Mary Harvey spoke to the accessory covering her right hand—Starweaving Mira.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Mira, dear.”

“Oh, oh, you’re too cruel! I only wanted to be at my beloved’s side!”

Starweaving Mira had the ability to interfere with anyone who touched it. If the person had a low degree of mana resistance, it could even control their body to an extent. But the Seven Sages were the best in the kingdom; it didn’t work on them.

Mary laughed, the sound like a ringing bell, as she removed Starweaving Mira from her hand. Then she placed it neatly in its special box and chanted the sealing spell. Once she finished the final verse, she whispered softly, “Good night, dear Mira. Sweet dreams.”

Starweaving Mira’s bitter weeping cut off the moment Mary closed the lid. She picked up the sealed box and held it to her chest as she left the church.

The lanterns decorating the streets that night were so bright, they made the stars difficult to see. Even so, Mary strained her eyes to track them.

Listening to the whispers of the constellations and safeguarding the kingdom’s future was her duty as the Starseer Witch.

Right now, she was searching for the star representing the Silent Witch. Her encounter and her decisions on this night would have a great effect on the kingdom. Each of them alone was like a tiny, twinkling star, but they were all connected, coming together to form a grand destiny.

And there’s one more thing I’m curious about…, she thought.

Next to the Silent Witch’s star shone another—one deeply intertwined with the girl’s fate. It was a precarious star shouldering a destiny of loss.

It doesn’t belong to any of the Seven Sages, and there can’t be many people that close to the Silent Witch… Whose star could it be?

As she mulled this over, she heard someone’s voice from the trees. Turning, she saw a beauty in maid clothes—the Barrier Mage Louis Miller’s contracted spirit, speaking to the owl sitting on her head. The owl was Mary’s familiar.

“My hobby is reading,” explained the spirit. “Lately, I have been reading books by Dustin Gunther. What are your hobbies, Sir Owl?”

The owl hooted. Naturally. Familiars could understand directions given to them, but they couldn’t speak like people could. They weren’t like spirits. She’d wondered before if a parrot might be able to talk, but she’d never seen anyone with a parrot as their familiar.

And yet Ryn was speaking to the owl anyway. Is she having fun? wondered Mary, puzzled as she watched them.

Eventually, Ryn noticed her there and turned to look. The way she rotated her head, without moving the rest of her body, reminded Mary of the creature still perching on Ryn.

“Are you going out, Starseer Witch?”

“No, I was just going to watch the sky from here,” she replied. “But what were you doing, Ryn, dear?”

“I was deepening my relationship with Sir Owl.”

The sensibilities of spirits were generally incomprehensible. Or could wind spirits understand the language of birds?

Ryn turned the rest of her body to face Mary. “There was something I wanted to ask you, Starseer Witch.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Why did you purposely allow Starweaving Mira to be stolen?”

Mary maintained her soft smile but didn’t say anything.

Ryn continued in a monotone. “I heard the culprit used his own tools to break the lock and escape the cell he was in.”

“Is that right? My, my. How disquieting.”

“Why didn’t you confiscate his tools?”

To Mary, it sounded like Ryn was asking these questions not to criticize, but out of pure curiosity. She stroked the box containing Starweaving Mira and replied in a singsong voice. “All is as the stars guide.”

“I see. The stars have a lot to say.”

“They do. But their voices are so soft that even I can’t make out everything,” said Mary, turning to look at the eastern sky.

Past the bell tower, a faint white was beginning to creep above the horizon. It would be morning in less than an hour. The radiance of the stars—their whispers—grew softer and softer. The night was ending, and a new day was beginning for all the living creatures of the world.

And when dawn arrived, it was time for Mary to sleep.

As she thought idly about returning to her room, she suddenly heard hurried footsteps approaching from the church’s back gate.

“I’m terribly sorry for disturbing you at this hour! Is Lady Rynzbelfeid present?! An urgent message has arrived from His Excellency Louis Miller…”