Chapter 15 - 2-5
The northern winter is a cruel and beautiful world of ice that stimulates the sense of pain.
It is reminiscent of a perfect prince—dignified, unapproachable.
But when spring comes, that prince suddenly becomes slovenly. The exquisite icicles drip like snot and turn to mud. The pure white snow finally admits defeat and falls into the dirty soil. The mud rises like a tide.
The roads, the fields, the gardens—all are a sea of mud. Puddles glisten everywhere, lukewarm.
The bellies of horses, the trousers of people, the wheels of carriages—all are covered in mud. The walls of houses are dirtied by splashes of mud. The soles of shoes become brushes, smearing mud everywhere.
When the mud hardens, the story changes. The green begins to sprout.
Perhaps the young buds appear all the more vivid because they emerge, untainted, from the mire.
Around the time the mud in the city of Malfa began to harden, the sons of good families were summoned to the castle. They were all boys, all with flushed cheeks. They were to become knights at the royal palace. They had been selected for the 'King's School.'
Yugis Necrat was one of those young buds, heading toward the great hall with his father.
It was spring. The spring of playing in the mud was over, and the spring of breathing life had begun. As they approached the stone pavement connecting the corridors, he could see flowers blooming in the garden.
As they walked, the view of the garden changed rapidly, cut off by pillars and walls. The colonnade was filled with sunlight, warmth, and fragrance. A bee, with a drowsy hum, crossed in front of his eyes.
Voices could be heard from somewhere. Someone's voice, young voices, and all of them were laughter—what could that mean?
However, the voice he heard up close was his father's tense nagging.
"In the great hall, the lords will be conversing. You might be surprised, you know."
His father, Count Urgil Necrat of Carossa, twitched his mustache.
"Don't you dare act timid. Be dignified. But don't be arrogant. Be quiet. You don't need to speak. Of course, it's different if His Majesty asks you something. That probably won't happen. Hmm, no, I can't say it's impossible either."
"Hmm," his father groaned and fell into thought.
Father is troubled. During that time, Yugis Necrat's black eyes turned toward a group of incredibly beautiful noblewomen. They all seemed to be of a young, maidenly age. They were coming into the garden while talking. With their abundant hair and splendid attire, they looked like incarnations of swirling flowers.
"Are women a novelty?"
He was suddenly asked. Yugis lowered his eyes once.
"Of course not," he said, looking up at his father. The boy was fourteen, but he looked older than his age.
"You seemed to be staring."
"I swear I will never be so foolish as to be infatuated with women."
"A foolish vow. When did you make it?"
"It has been a long-standing aspiration," Yugis said seriously. "If I were to fall in love, Father would surely have a difficult time."
"What a cheeky thing to say..." his father began.
Stealing a glance at his profile, his prized mustache seemed more pursed than usual.
Even after passing through the covered walkway and entering the main hall's open corridor, his father remained silent.
When they reached the grand staircase, he finally spoke.
"You're right, Yugis," he said with a serious face. "No love. I absolutely forbid it. Don't do anything at the palace. You don't need to act. Just be normal."
"I intend to get into a few fights."
"Shut up. Now, here's the great hall."
The large doors were thrown open. Two men who looked like servants rushed out carrying dishes. As they passed them, he looked back into the great hall. Inside, it was in an uproar. There were many people. Loose over-garments, short cloaks, the thin fabrics draped over noblewomen's shoulders—they all had their backs to Yugis, looking up at one point, laughing in a murmuring way.
Following his father and stepping into the great hall, he heard a voice.
A girl's voice. It was a deep, not unpleasant voice, but it resonated well for that.
"We are—" she was saying.
"We are ships longing for the harbor, travelers looking back on a long road."
The voice echoed off the ceiling.
"Is it not our fate to return someday?"
He had no idea what she was talking about.
"Now is the time to triumphantly return, now that the glory of the royal family resounds to the four corners of the earth. Your Majesty, please grant me a single, strong army. If you do..."
"That is terrifying," a deep voice responded somewhere. "If you whisper sweetly, it seems you could gather a great army of those drawn to you."
Laughter erupted.
It was so crowded he couldn't see what was happening. He followed his father, heading for the center of the great hall. Soon, Yugis could also see the source of the commotion. There was a table.
It was a long table covered with a cloth, able to seat five or six people. Several long tables were connected to form a vast dining table. There were three rows of these vast tables, and in the middle of the middle row, there was a single girl. Incredibly, she was standing on the table, placing dishes and candlesticks at her feet and giving a speech.
What an hopeless fool, he thought, exasperated. Most of the distinguished guests had left their seats to watch the girl. Pushing through the people to see the fool, Yugis's feet naturally stopped.
"Leave those who mock me be," the fool, who had come into view, was saying. She was a fool as beautiful as the moon. "The recapture of the Holy Land is a new undertaking. It surely won't be understood by old people. Come to think of it, it seems the very faces least likely to understand are seated in the seats of honor."
The beautiful girl curled the corner of her lip and looked down at the king's guests.
A fair number of people raised low, dissatisfied voices. They weren't voices of genuine anger. The girl raised her chin, closed her eyes, and seemed to enjoy the nobles' criticism.
"But you," the deep voice said again from somewhere, "just said 'the recapture of the Holy Land is the thousand-year ambition of the Alish family.' That 'new undertaking' of yours seems to have existed for about a thousand years."
"Until now, it was 'we will return someday,' but what I am saying is 'we will return now.' Do you see the difference, Father?"
The owner of the deep voice laughed cheerfully. "It's difficult for old people... isn't that right, Count Carossa?"
The boy who was a knight candidate finally realized the identity of the deep voice. At the most honored seat of the dining table, the person was leaning back comfortably in an armchair, showing a smile, and looking directly at him.
"Just as you say, Your Majesty."
Count Urgil Necrat of Carossa bowed deeply, and Yugis followed suit.
His Majesty was there. The king he had longed for with such yearning. He had finally been granted an audience, yet Yugis's eyes tried to return to the table again.
"You brought your son. I've kept you waiting long. You're the very last one. I'd like to talk a bit, but before that, Count Carossa, don't hold back. Pull Lucy down. This one just keeps getting in the way of the conversation."
—This stupid woman.
Princess Lucy. Yugis had heard of her.
She was said to be a peerlessly beautiful princess whose name was known even in foreign lands. Indeed.
"Well, well, this is quite a difficult problem..." his father began to say something, when—
"My, my. The great talent of the mountain country, the wise general of Carossa, the kingdom's foremost wise retainer, Lord Necrat," the girl on the table cut in rapidly. "No need to hold back. Please, do drag me down from here. That is, if you have the courage to step onto the king's dining table with your muddy boots. Can you, sir, defile the king's table?"
"Such a thing can only be done by Her Highness Luchentin. Only Her Highness."
"Of course. Yes, Count Carossa. My rudeness is the world's best. But surely a sharp-witted count like you will drag me down from here. Without even stepping onto the table. You're a wise man, after all. Isn't that right?"
"Well—, ah..."
"Come now. You're going to get me down from here with some astonishingly clever trick, aren't you?"
Yugis looked at his father.
Urgil Necrat was blushing, forcing a placating smile. It was the first time he had seen such a face on his father.
Voices of curiosity overlapped in the great hall, a rustling sound like rolling grains of sand.
The moment the princess's provocation began, the people in the great hall suddenly turned malicious. Everyone stared at his father without restraint.
The rumored beautiful princess apparently insulted the king's dining table, gave speeches, and also mocked his own father.
As for the great talent of the mountain country, he was stroking his mustache with a difficult expression. It was a face that looked like it might break out in a greasy sweat.
The princess watched his father's face with interest. Then, the lively light in her eyes was extinguished.
"Oh my."
It was a cold voice. Looking up at the girl on the table, she was just shifting her gaze to Yugis's face.
"And you are? Do you possess wisdom?"
"I have no wisdom," he raised his voice instinctively. "But I have common sense. I believe there is no need to stand on a table."
"Hmm?"
She took a step or two forward on the table.
"Surely Her Highness will get off the table herself. All I can do is beg for your pity, kneel, and—Your Highness, watch out!"
He shouted loudly, looking above Princess Lucy's head. The princess was tricked into turning around. In that gap, Yugis grabbed the tablecloth with both hands. He pulled with all his might, lifting one side of the table. But the table didn't fall. Dishes flew through the air, or slid across the table, crashing noisily to the floor. Several chairs toppled backward. The assembled nobles cried out in surprise. The princess stretched out both arms, groping the air, and leaned over. Her white shoes slipped on the edge of the table, and the princess fell into the boy's arms. The princess was a soft and light person.
The tablecloth fell to the floor with a faint sound.
No matter how beautiful a face, if you look at it up close, you're bound to find one or two flaws.
It was the greatest mistake of his life to stare at the princess's face, intending to peel away her mask.
The small, hot body moved in his arms. The princess shook her head violently, her blonde hair parting to the sides, and there, close enough for their breaths to mingle, appeared the girl's wide-eyed face. This person's skin was not made of blood and flesh. It was made of an inward glow, like agate or pearl. Her cheeks were red. Her eyes were moist. They were light blue eyes. Large eyes. Like the sky. The princess's lips parted silently, and her eyelids closed. Yugis's heart leaped to a higher place, and never returned to its original spot for the rest of his life.