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Chapter 19
His Summons
A royal prince’s letter carries authority equal to the prince himself. Therefore, the arrival of such a letter must be treated with the same formality as the arrival of His Highness.
The Duke ground his teeth.
Anastasia shrugged and released his collar.
“You should go receive the letter, then.”
Duke Etranje glanced at the corpses around him, then turned and left the room.
Even though the room reeked of blood and death, not a single scream could be heard. The entire floor’s maids had likely already been cleared away.
Anastasia narrowed her eyes as she examined her ruined room.
“…The door is destroyed, there’s a hole in the wall, and blood is splattered everywhere.”
A restoration spell could fix it.
But corpses could not be removed with restoration magic. More importantly, she had no intention of storing bodies in her spatial storage.
But there were things she needed.
“Anastasia?”
Arthorius could not understand why she was collecting the longswords and daggers from the dead.
“Why are you gathering them?”
“…Yes?”
Instead of answering, Anastasia handed him one of the swords.
Well-balanced, light, sharp… and engraved at the pommel with the Etranje family crest.
“Because we might need them someday.”
She traced a small arc in the air with her finger, opening a spatial rift, and dumped in all six longswords and twelve daggers.
“Someday, huh…”
It was easy to guess her intentions.
“And turn around. I need to change.”
Anastasia gestured toward the window.
The royal prince’s letter… it was clearly addressed to her. Otherwise, a royal letter bearing Louis Janpots’ seal would not have been sent here.
In the end, she had to go receive it herself.
“Understood.”
Arthorius started to comment on her careless attitude, but instead turned toward the broken doorway.
It was to ensure no maid accidentally saw inside.
“Thank you.”
To Anastasia, who had never received even the smallest kindness, that simple consideration felt warm.
Just the day before, Lady Hawthongel’s yellow dress had arrived.
Anastasia did not particularly like such ornate and cumbersome clothing… but formality was exactly that.
Something elaborate, restrictive, decorative.
With the help of her maid Betty, she neatly braided and pinned up her hair.
When a silver-and-white jade butterfly hairpin was placed in her hair, she looked like a fairy.
“…My lady, you are so beautiful.”
Betty sighed in admiration without realizing it.
“Thank you.”
There was no need to respond harshly to sincere praise. Anastasia adjusted her slightly exposed shoulder and stood, looking out the window.
The royal messenger carrying Prince Louis Janpots’ letter was looking up at her.
“…How does he know where my window is?”
She frowned slightly, then gave a small nod indicating she would come down soon.
The corpses in the room had already been removed by Enoch and his men. The blood on the floor had been cleaned, so only the broken door needed repair.
Anastasia and Arthorius left the room and restored the shattered door with magic.
“…No matter how many times I see it, it’s fascinating.”
“Don’t say that. I’m not nineteen.”
Anastasia pouted.
“Even considering your real age, it is still surprising.”
Normally, no one should be able to read any expression under that black, rusted helmet…
Yet for some reason, Anastasia felt warmth at the idea of his faint smile.
“You smiled, didn’t you?”
“…How did you know?”
Finding him flustered amusing, she shrugged.
“I have my ways.”
The problem was that Arthorius took her words very seriously.
“…This armor should be impossible to see through, even with clairvoyance spells.”
“Arthorius?”
“Could it be… you saw my true face? Oh heavens. That must never—”
Anastasia grabbed his large armored hand and looked up at him.
“Take a deep breath, Arthorius. I didn’t see anything. I just… feel your emotions.”
“…Truly nothing?”
“Truly nothing.”
She was a little curious, of course.
But whenever she saw how he flinched even when she lightly touched his helmet…
It didn’t feel necessary to force it. Not seeing a face he didn’t want revealed would not change anything.
“…I see.”
“Good. You’re calm now?”
He nodded slowly.
“I have shown an unbecoming side of myself.”
“How can anyone always be composed? I probably look half like a tomboy right now anyway.”
It was a light joke.
A small smiling mouth, calm deep blue eyes curved gently.
Arthorius stared at her as though enchanted.
“That is not so.”
This time, his cold armored fingers brushed her cheek.
“You are always noble.”
His speech was archaic, as though from two hundred years ago. Even such embarrassing words sounded formal.
“…Alright. Let’s go down.”
The royal carriage was as extravagant as a symbol of the class system itself.
Deep navy wood polished to a shine, inlaid with gold and silver decorations.
All of it for the sake of a single letter.
The entire family had gathered. Their gazes toward her were not kind.
Not surprising.
Her recent behavior had made her a thorn in their eyes.
Rumors had likely already spread beyond the estate.
That the Second Princess of Etranje had changed as if she had become a different person overnight.
“…A royal letter has arrived for you, Anastasia.”
The Duchess murmured in a low voice.
“I know.”
Leaving Arthorius a few steps behind, Anastasia walked through the gathered family.
She felt Jennis’s sharp gaze and Aslan’s venomous muttering.
But the Duke remained silent.
Soon, a herald wearing a gold-decorated helmet with red tassels shouted loudly.
“The recipient must kneel and show proper respect!”
Anastasia lightly lifted her dress and bowed, then knelt gracefully like a praying nun.
“I, Anastasia Etranje, noble of the kingdom, vassal of the royal house, and subject of His Majesty, receive this royal letter.”
A murmur of shock came from behind her.
Of course. The old Anastasia had been poor not only at magic but also at noble etiquette.
They had not properly taught her, so she could not possibly have known it.
But that was no longer true.
“I will read the letter here on behalf of His Highness Prince Louis Janpots.”
The herald was only a knight, and not someone who could speak casually to a ducal princess.
But when reading a royal letter, he represented the authority of the seal’s owner.
His voice was effectively the prince’s voice.
“Court Mage Anastasia Etranje is hereby ordered, under the authority of the royal house, to immediately return to the royal capital upon receipt of this letter and fulfill her duties to the kingdom. That is all.”
Short, clear, and absolute.
But there was an unspoken meaning.
Return to the capital.
A reminder that before she was the Duke’s daughter, she was a court mage bound to serve the kingdom.
Anastasia nodded slightly and stood, extending her hand.
The herald was now just a herald.
“I am Knight Perry Collins, entrusted with delivering the letter and escorting the return journey.”
He introduced himself briefly, then removed his helmet and knelt on one knee.
He kissed the back of her hand.
“I leave the return journey in your care, Sir Collins.”
“It will be my greatest honor. If you require assistance with your belongings, I am at your service.”
Anastasia shrugged and glanced toward Arthorius standing at a distance.
“…That won’t be necessary.”
“Then I shall wait here.”
He was a disciplined man.
Anastasia shook her head slightly and helped him up.
“Since you came all this way, please have some tea. I don’t have much to pack, so it won’t take long.”
Then—
The sound of another carriage approached.
Anastasia narrowed her eyes and looked behind the royal carriage.
A neat carriage of birchwood and walnut.
Familiar.
It belonged to the Marcher Lord of Gelrand.
The door opened, and a girl stepped out—bright red hair, freckles, and green eyes shining.
“Oh… that took forever. H-hello everyone?”
Trish seemed confused by the situation.
Anastasia smiled lightly and walked toward her, extending her hand.
“…Huh?”
Seeing her confused face, Anastasia whispered.
“I’m Anastasia Etranje, court mage. I don’t have much to pack, so don’t worry. And… we’re leaving for the royal capital today.”
A maid follows her master wherever they go.
In other words…
Trish had just been abruptly promoted into royal service.
“…What? Huh?”
As the girl panicked, Anastasia gently patted her hair.
Although Trish was slightly taller, it wasn’t out of reach.
“Also, please serve tea and refreshments to Sir Collins, who came as escort. He is a guest who delivered a royal letter, so treat him properly.”
“…Y-yes!”
“Good. I’ll be counting on you from now on.”
