Winter Field Chapter 26

The attendants bowed their heads and withdrew. Bookshelves stretched up as if to touch the lofty, lofty ceiling, and the ladders and stairs climbing between them like vines were dizzyingly high. In the vast library, where it would be no exaggeration to say all the books and ancient documents of the world were gathered, only one person remained—Gisel Siebendad.

Immature sunlight streamed in through the glass windows, and the scent of paper and freshly brewed tea leaves spread faintly. Even for him, who always preferred to be shut away in his underground laboratory, a time like this was not unpleasant.

There was just one problem. The book he had opened with anticipation, for the first time in a while, was more trivial than expected.

Was this not merely a repetition of what the author had written before, with only the title changed and a few new descriptions added? However, he possessed the habitual disposition of not being satisfied until he had read a book to the end once opened, so he had no choice but to continue reading.

Occasionally tilting his teacup and turning pages without much inspiration, the lord of Loudkhen suddenly, as if the thought had just struck him, took out a round mirror.

When he swept his hand across the glass surface, the mirror, which had been reflecting Gisel’s face, allowed him to peer into a scene not present here. Pausing briefly from forcing his concentration on the tedious book, Gisel cast his gaze upon it.

Looking like an ordinary mirror, it was one of the magical tools connected to its owner by magical power, sometimes used to observe inside and outside the castle. Magic that projected distant places using one’s possession consumed a considerable amount of mana and could not be used easily, but within the Grand Duke’s castle, it was not particularly difficult.

Inside the mirror, a blond young man was moving busily. He opened all the windows so that sunlight could brightly illuminate the room and the wind could pass through. Perhaps cold from airing out the room, he was shaking out the blanket they had used yesterday while still wearing a padded coat indoors.

Having shaken out the blanket, moved it back onto the bed, and neatly arranged it, he then added more firewood to the fireplace, swept the floor, drew water into the washbasin, washed his face, and brushed his teeth. After looking around as if searching for anything else to do and apparently finding nothing in particular, he sat down in the chair before the fireplace.

But it was only for a moment. He sprang up again, paced across the carpet, and approached the window, resting his elbows on the sill and looking outside.

Rensley Malosen stood at the window for a long while. Then he shook his head from side to side and stepped back, and suddenly prostrated himself on the floor and began doing push-ups, exercising. This went on for quite some time. This time, he stood up, picked up the feather duster that had been used for cleaning, and danced in the wide empty space of the room.

No. Gisel soon corrected his thought. The movement he had initially thought was dancing seemed more likely to be swordsmanship forms. Though he himself did not enjoy martial pursuits, as the heir to the sovereign of Oldenland, he had learned the basics of swordsmanship and combat, and as with many other fields, he held an academic interest in martial arts as well.

Martial arts differed in type and character by country and region, and the weapons used varied slightly, so upon closer examination, there were quite a few points of interest. Rensley displayed a swordsmanship that was light and fluid, like flowing water, unlike that of Oldenland or even the neighboring countries.

‘He did say swordsmanship and horsemanship were his specialties.’

Gisel retraced the stories the man in the mirror had recounted at length, kneeling and prostrating himself.

—Ah, I’m bored.

After moving his body energetically for a while, he eventually tossed the feather duster aside with a flick and pulled the bell cord by the bed. Not long after, Head Maid Samrit entered.

—Rensley, did you sleep well?

—I always sleep well. The thunder was incredible yesterday, though. Were you all right, Madam?

—I’m used to it. If it’s noisy, you can just cover your ears and that’s that. People of Oldenland think days with thunder are safe, so they actually sleep with peace of mind. Shall I prepare breakfast?

—Yes. I exercised from the morning, so I’m hungry.

—Goodness, such energy. Just wait a little.

Madam Samrit seemed to be giving instructions for tasks to those outside. Returning to the room, she began chatting with Rensley.

—Was it all right, His Highness the Grand Duke visiting yesterday?

—Yes! I was very surprised he came by so suddenly. It was the first time I’d seen him since the wedding ceremony. It seems we talked quite a lot, for a change.

—But you left so much food uneaten. The head cook, who had put in effort because both Their Highnesses were dining, was quite upset. As for His Highness the Grand Duke, he’s always been that way, but Rensley, you are too picky with your food too. You always try to eat only a few things you like.

—Picky eater… That’s true. A bit, yes… Oh, Madam. By any chance, you weren’t scolded by His Highness because of me, were you?

—Me? Why would I be?

Rensley shook his head, saying it was nothing. Madam Samrit waved her hands dismissively, reassuring him.

—I don’t know what it’s about, but don’t worry. His Highness does not easily get angry at the servants working in the castle.

—Come to think of it… He was frightening at first, but he seems like a kind person. Though outwardly he’s a bit blunt…

—It can’t be helped. Living as the sovereign of a nation isn’t all that enjoyable a thing, is it? Well, though lowly people like us can’t possibly know.

—That is true. Even when I lived in Cornia, I never understood why people want to succeed to the throne so badly. I’ve never once seen people who desire the king or the throne look happy, so why are they so covetous… If you get caught up wrongly in a succession struggle, you just end up assassinated or poisoned. Since I’m alive like this, at times like this, I’m rather glad I was born an illegitimate son.

Rensley answered with a laugh. Gisel observed the sight intently.

—It’s hard because the weather is so different from Cornia, isn’t it? Still, thunder like yesterday’s doesn’t strike often.

—It’s fine. For a grown man, a little thunder is…

Having said that, Rensley wore a somewhat complicated expression. He carefully opened his mouth.

—Actually, maybe because it rained yesterday, I had a dream that’s been weighing a little on my mind.

—A dream? What kind of dream?

—The friend I was closest to in Cornia appeared in my dream. I wonder if he’s doing well… I miss him and I’m worried too.

—Oh dear… How could I possibly fathom the heart of Rensley, who has come so far away from his homeland?

Marilyn.

Gisel thought of the three syllables that had slipped from Rensley’s lips. He had hastily woken him, thinking he was being mistaken for someone else in his sleep, but looking back now, he could have just quietly slipped away without needing to wake him.

There had been a brief moment when he had misunderstood, thinking Rensley Malosen was Yvette Elvanes’s secret lover. Just as he had found it plausible then that Princess Yvette had brought this man all the way here, it would not have been strange if he had a lover left behind in Cornia.

However, like the head maid had said, Gisel, too, had never been in a similar position, so he could not fully fathom the heart of Rensley Malosen. He simply listened to the conversation in silence.

—He’s not in Cornia, but in a place relatively close to Loudkhen. But as time passes, he might leave, so… If only I could go out, I could go see him, but it would be difficult even if I asked His Highness, wouldn’t it?

—Oh my, is that so? Where does this friend live?

—He tried to come to Oldenland together with me. But it seems it was my own selfishness. He had a very hard time with the journey, so we had to part ways at an inn along the way. We said we’d see each other again, but I don’t think we’ll be able to meet again after all. Even if I brought him here, I don’t know if he’d be able to get along well here… I’d at least like to know how he’s doing, if there’s any news.

Gisel’s eyes widened slightly. Did he mean that the person called Marilyn was in the vicinity of Loudkhen?

The image of Yvette Elvanes—no, Rensley Malosen—with his face covered by a deep purple veil, came to mind. He had stared directly at Gisel with violet eyes and pleaded, writing letters with his fingers. Asking if he couldn’t pretend not to know and let him go.

While Gisel’s gaze was fixed on the mirror, somewhere a window had been left slightly ajar, and the wind blew in, flipping the pages of the opened book with no one to hold them down. The conversation of the two, unaware of the eavesdropper’s presence, continued unchanged.

—Don’t be like that, tell me about it, Rensley. Even if Rensley doesn’t go himself, if His Highness permits it, we could send someone to bring him here. At the very least, you could ask them to find out how he’s doing, couldn’t you?

—Should I?

—Yes. If all else fails, I’ll casually mention it to His Highness.