III
Leticia Castle, the Royal Capital of Fis
Two weeks had passed since the Helios Knights had escaped the First Legion’s pursuit and retreated to Kier Fortress.
Leaving behind the Second Legion with a newly strengthened line of defense, Olivia and the First Legion rode back to Fis, where they were met with a hero’s welcome. So wild was the citizens’ enthusiasm that it took far longer than it should have for them to reach Leticia Castle. After being bombarded so, the moment Olivia reached the room assigned to her by Neinhardt, she threw herself into bed.
This is so soft and comfy, she thought as she buried her face in the pillow. And it smells like sunshine. I’m so worn out after today. A nap sounds nice...
No sooner had she thought this than there came a knock at the door. Olivia gave leave to enter and Claudia let herself in. She wore an enormous grin, which put Olivia on her guard. In her experience, Claudia rarely had anything good to say when she smiled like that.
“Isn’t it a glorious, sunny day, Major?” Claudia said cheerfully.
Olivia looked out the window at the gloomy, gray sky. “It’s cloudy outside...”
“The sun is shining in my heart!” Claudia smiled brightly at her, sending Olivia’s sense of danger skyrocketing.
“Do you need something?” Olivia asked. “I’d prefer to deal with it later if it’s not urgent. The thing is, I was actually thinking about taking a nap.”
Thinking that if she were asleep, she wouldn’t have to deal with annoying conversations, Olivia started snuggling under the covers. But Claudia’s hands clamped around her legs and dragged her back out. Olivia, not to be discouraged, attempted to get back under the covers while Claudia tried to thwart her. They struggled for a while until at last and with terrific effort, Claudia tore the blanket off of her.
Panting, she ran her fingers through her disheveled hair. “Would you cut it out?!”
“You cut it out.”
There was a pause. “Did I hear you say something?”
“Nope, I didn’t say anything!” Olivia shook her head and assumed an innocent expression. Nothing good ever came of defying Claudia. The right thing to do here was to pretend nothing had happened.
“Unbelievable...” Claudia sighed. “There’s no time for sleeping now. I come bearing the very best of news for you.”
That sounded to Olivia like the very worst of news. She didn’t have pleasant memories of any of the times Claudia brought her “good” news, not a single one. Back at the conferment ceremony, Claudia had gotten a dress uniform altered for Olivia. When the ceremony was over Olivia had tried to return the uniform, but for some reason, Claudia had only laughed bitterly. “I can’t wear that anymore,” she’d said. “Keep it, ser. As a gift.”
In her room at Leticia Castle, she reluctantly said, “Okay, I guess I’ll hear it.”
With a smug chuckle, Claudia said, “Try to maintain your composure, ser. None other than His Majesty, King Alfonse, has heard of your exploits and wishes to meet you. This is a great honor.” Claudia glowed with happiness as if she’d received the honor herself. She actually looked like she might start dancing. Olivia thought she might glow with happiness herself if only Claudia would now turn around and leave.
She coughed a few times. “Claudia, I think I have a cold. I’m really sorry, but I don’t want the king to catch it. I can’t—”
“Very well. Nothing but thin gruel until you recover.” Claudia loomed over her, her smile replaced by an icy glare. Just the thought of nothing but thin gruel was so bloodcurdling that Olivia thought she might actually get ill.
“—can’t not accept, of course I accept. I don’t even have a cold. I think I was imagining things.” She gave a false cheery laugh and flexed her biceps.
“That’s a relief.” Claudia was smiling again. She sat down next to Olivia and began laying out the schedule for the royal audience.
Ugh, if I’d known this was coming, I’d have run the moment I saw Claudia’s smile, Olivia thought. Nothing’s going my way today.
But there was no use crying over spilled milk. Just as she’d feared, Claudia had nothing good to say to her. And Claudia was as infatuated as ever with this incomprehensible, so-called “honor” thing.
I don’t get it at all. You can’t even eat it... Olivia wasn’t interested in an audience with the king—she really couldn’t care less. But she couldn’t say that out loud or she knew Claudia would turn into a yaksha again, and that thought terrified her. She’d never say it, no matter what. Even so, she had to at least communicate to Claudia that she didn’t have the faintest interest in honor.
“Claudia, I told you time before last, but I don’t want honor, I’d rather have—”
“Books or delicious food, right?” Claudia smirked as Olivia, thrown by the unexpected response, nodded. With an air of triumph, she cleared her throat and said, “After the audience with King Alfonse, there will be a banquet to celebrate our victory. There won’t be any books, of course, but I am told the food will be spectacular.”
“Spectacular food?” This was so alluring to Olivia that she unconsciously drew closer to Claudia.
“They say the king’s personal cooks—they’re known as chefs royale—have His Majesty’s permission to prepare some special dishes.”
“Chefs royale...” Olivia repeated. “Oh! Like the man who traveled around making the world a better place while cooking amazing feasts!”
“Traveled the world? What?” Claudia looked bewildered, so Olivia told her all about The Vagabond Chef Royale and His Journey of Reformation, a story she’d read as a child. Long, long ago, there was a chef royale who grew so troubled by the persecution of the weak that he abandoned his country and set off on a journey. With two knives on his belt, he punished wrongdoers and cooked feasts for the common folk.
Olivia, inspired by this, had gone through a phase of cooking with two swords on her belt instead of knives. Z happened to come across her doing this once, and she’d seen it cocking its head in confusion out of the corner of her eye.
“Major, the chefs royale do not punish wrongdoers, nor do they put on feasts for the commoners. They hardly ever leave the palace, let alone go on journeys to make the world a better place,” Claudia said.
“You mean you don’t think the Vagabond Chef Royale is real? But he is, he really is. At the end of the book, it said it was a true story.” Olivia pouted, sticking her lips out like the beak of a vampire bird.
Claudia looked conflicted but at last, she steeled herself and said, “I don’t want to trample on your dreams, ser...” A faraway look came over Claudia’s face as she continued. “But I’m afraid the author probably wrote that as a joke. You know all about how Comet the Fairy liked to play jokes. This other book was fiction, just like Comet.”
Olivia’s shoulders slumped. Yet again, she’d learned something she didn’t want to know.
The Audience Chamber at Leticia Castle
The king still isn’t here? I just want to get this over with...
Olivia was led to the audience chamber, where she was now waiting for Alfonse and trying as hard as she could to suppress yawn after yawn. She was so bored that she’d started singing to herself inside her head when she heard the door in the back of the chamber open. Olivia heard multiple sets of footsteps, then sensed a single human sit down on the throne. Thanks to Claudia’s strict instructions that she was not to look up until the king addressed her, she was getting very well acquainted with the floor.
“Rise, Olivia Valedstorm.”
Finally, Olivia thought with relief as she looked up. Her next thought was, Is that the king?
The figure before her was the total opposite of the kings in her picture books. He had a thin and pallid face, his expression twisted in wide-eyed astonishment. The only thing he had in common with the kings from the picture books were his opulent robes and glittering crown.
Alfonse stared hard at Olivia for a while, then turned to Cornelius, who stood beside him and whispered something in his ear. Cornelius’s only reply was to nod. Alfonse’s doubtful gaze returned to Olivia. “You are Olivia Valedstorm, the Death God feared by the empire? There’s no mistake?”
Cornelius opened his mouth, but Alfonse raised a hand to silence him.
“Yes, I’m Olivia Valedstorm.” Olivia was confused. As far as she knew there was no one else with the same name as her. After all, the House of Valedstorm had only just been revived after over a hundred years. If there was someone out there with the same name as her, she wished they’d get here already and take her place.
“I have heard of how you brought down many of the empire’s renowned generals. Do you remember their names?”
Olivia hesitated for a second before replying to Alfonse’s second question. “That’s a difficult question.”
At once, Alfonse’s expression became severe. “You don’t remember? Common soldiers are one thing, but one would usually remember a general of renown, would you not agree? Are you really Olivia Valedstorm?”
Faced with the king’s suspicion, Olivia replied with a question of her own. “Do you remember everything you eat every day, Your Majesty?”
“What I eat every day? Of course not. Why would I remember every meal?” he said arrogantly, snorting at the trivial question.
“It’s the same for me. I don’t remember every person I’ve killed. I don’t see any difference between renowned generals and ordinary soldiers. They’re all equal to me, all just humans.”
That wasn’t the whole truth. She remembered enemies who left an impression on her, whether she killed them or not. Blum, who’d given her the mini ballista, was one such example. This was difficult to explain, however, so she left it out.
Alfonse stared at her in amazement. Meanwhile, outraged voices started to rise up from his personal guards who lined the walls.
“Your Majesty,” Cornelius interjected, “I can confirm that this is Olivia Valedstorm, as much as I appreciate that, given her appearance, that may be difficult to believe.” As he looked over at her, Olivia gave him a little wave and his mouth twitched ever so slightly.
To combat her boredom on the road back to Fis, Olivia had evaded Claudia’s attempts to stop her and struck up a conversation with Cornelius. She’d heard he was the highest commander in the Royal Army, and that roused her curiosity a little. Cornelius had turned out to be a good-natured old man, and after their many conversations, they were thick as thieves. Claudia had stared at the ground every time they spoke, though.
“I have no talent for warfare,” Alfonse said at length. “I only ask these prying questions because of that. But hearing you now, I see at least that you are no ordinary girl.” He paused for a brief moment, before raising his voice in proclamation. “Olivia Valedstorm. You have distinguished yourself on the field of battle. If you have any desire, speak it now. There are limits to what I may grant you, but if it is within my power, I shall see it done.”
Alfonse’s offer was sudden, but Olivia didn’t miss a beat. “In that case, I’d like an enormous cake, like one you’d see in a picture book,” she said. “I always wanted to try one.”
“A cake? Did you just say cake?”
“I did.”
“That’s all you want? Not gold or jewels?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I still don’t really get how money works, and I do think jewels are very pretty with how they sparkle. But apart from that, they don’t interest me.”
She laughed, and Alfonse gave her a crooked smile. “The old—that is, Cornelius told me you weren’t greedy, but...” He trailed off, then said, “It shall be so. For the banquet, I shall order the chefs to prepare a cake greater than that of any picture book.”
“Awesome! Um, I mean, thank you, Your Majesty.”
Alfonse hummed his acknowledgment. “That concludes our audience.”
Olivia jumped to her feet and saluted, then left the chamber with a spring in her step. Here I was dreading this audience, she thought. Who’d have thought something so wonderful could come out of it?
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