MCFLS 01

Chapter 01

The long war with the United Kingdom, which had lasted seven years, ended in victory for the Persen Empire.

The emperor wished to hold a grand triumphal parade to honor those who had brought glory to the empire.

On the day of the celebration, the crowd filling Saint-Iman Square cheered loudly for those who had raised the name of Persen high.

Citizens who had come out to welcome the soldiers scattered flower petals wherever the chariots and horses passed, wishing them a future filled with blessings.

“Is it really just two years?”

Adrien sat at a table in the outdoor hall of the Persen Imperial Palace, the destination of the parade, lost in thought about someone.

Cyril was the frailest person Adrien had ever known.

Yet, three years ago, he had volunteered to join the army, and only a year ago, at the tender age of eighteen, he had become a lieutenant.

“Has it really been that long?”

Adrien marveled, when suddenly a cheer erupted all at once.

The procession, which had made its way around the square, had finally passed through the main gates of the palace.

The orchestra began playing an even grander piece, and everyone who had been waiting rose to their feet and applauded.

Adrien, rising along with the crowd, caught snippets of conversation in his ears.

“Is that Sir Tezar himself?”

“Look at his dignified bearing! There’s no doubt about it. How proud the Duke of Tezar must be to have such a remarkable heir.”

“Of course, Sir Tezar has also achieved great feats as a soldier—but”

The last words, whispered by Countess Conte, were spoken quietly, as if sharing a secret.

“—I’m sure he will also win the hearts of the women of this country. Just look at those eyes… so sensual…”

“You are quite mischievous, madam. But looking at Sir Tezar like this, it’s hard to deny it.”

“Honestly, I was a bit skeptical. I had heard so much about him being an unparalleled beauty…”

The countess, taking a small breath, exclaimed with admiration:

“But what a surprise! Seeing him in person for the first time, it was no exaggeration at all. In fact, the words don’t even do him justice.”

The chatter and praise of women about Sir Tezar continued endlessly.

Adrien directed his gaze to the front of the long procession.

There, in the distinctive blue uniform of the Imperial Guard, was Sir Tezar—Cyril himself.

Perhaps because he hadn’t had time to care for his appearance during the campaign, his jet-black hair lightly covered his eyebrows, and beneath it, his long golden eyes were slightly deeper than Adrien remembered.

Even though his expression was clearly blank, his striking features made those eyes seem, at a glance, almost wistful.

Adrien summarized the chatter of the women in one line:

A sensual, unparalleled beauty…

In the eyes of the women, Cyril was a perfect creation, a man from a dream one could only hope to meet once.

“Cyril Valentin as a man from a dream… what kind of dream could go so wrong?”

Of course, this didn’t apply to Adrien.

To see a childhood friend of eight years as a man from a dream after only two years apart—that would be madness.

Especially since that childhood friend had been small and frail back then, unlike now, making the notion even more absurd.

At that moment, several sharp gazes fell on Adrien as if firing arrows. Startled by the sudden attention, Adrien flinched.

Almost at the same time, his eyes met Cyril’s. Cyril, who had maintained a blank expression the entire time, raised an eyebrow.

Why are you here?

That was exactly what his expression said. After living in the same castle for about eight years, one couldn’t help but notice such things.

“Stop pretending you don’t know me…”

Even though Adrien had written him letters personally, Cyril’s skill at defying expectations remained unchanged. Adrien received the piercing gaze and forced a bitter smile.

It was going to be a long, exhausting day.

＊ ＊ ＊

Adrien de Cassinel Blois.

A noble name born of the union between the Cassinel family’s eldest son and the Blois family’s second daughter.

The Cassinel family had long served as the protectors of the empire’s borders, one of the ten original great noble families, and even ranked among the “new” great nobility—a truly prestigious lineage.

And the Blois family?

They had once produced an empress—about 200 years ago. Though no longer called a great noble family today, they had been one of the ten original great noble families.

In terms of legitimacy, Adrien was the product of the union of two of the most distinguished families.

A lucky person who could boast two noble surnames when introducing herself to others!

“I wonder how Father is… Hopefully they haven’t attacked again in the meantime.”

Yet Adrien did not consider herself fortunate.

It did no practical good to boast about her family being the empire’s protectors or having unmatched legitimacy.

Cassinel was a fief bordering the Krutten Empire.

Having defended the land against one of the continent’s dominant powers, they could pretend to be respected protectors for a long time.

But after the Krutten Empire split into multiple kingdoms, the mercenary groups and bandits they faced no longer brought recognition.

Invasions were frequent, yet support dwindled, and their names were gradually forgotten.

Cassinel and Blois seemed like nothing more than golden apricots—good in appearance but lacking substance.

“Mademoiselle Cassinel?”

“…Ah, yes.”

After the procession had passed, the grand banquet finally began.

Adrien, who had been lost in thought about this year’s deficit, finally regained her focus.

She met the gaze of many pairs of eyes filled with curiosity, envy, and jealousy.

Some eyes carried a particular hostility, usually from those close to the princess.

Adrien’s crime in earning the princess’s rare dislike was entirely because of that famed Cyril. Perhaps it was a crime of sharing childhood together.

“You seem quite nervous. I hear you haven’t been in the capital long?”

“Embarrassingly so, madam. Life in the fief has been so busy that I’ve had no chance to visit the capital.”

“I see… Cassinel is quite far, so perhaps the news hasn’t reached us yet. I don’t recall hearing about it.”

How many times the bandits had descended, how large the disguised mercenary groups were—it wasn’t worth shouting. No one would have cared anyway.

Adrien smiled quietly, pretending ignorance.

It would be foolish to confront a socially seasoned lady head-on, especially when she had no allies.

“Mademoiselle Cassinel, I hear Sir Tezar spent his childhood in Cassinel. You must be very close, then.”

“He is closer to my father than to me. Like a teacher and his student.”

The Tezar the world knew, and the Cyril Adrien knew, had learned sword and gun from Adrien’s father, the Count of Cassinel.

Publicly, that was the story.

They could not openly say that young Cyril had been so frail that he had come to the Cassinel fief to recover in its mild climate year-round.

Explaining it fully would require revealing countless political reasons behind it—something better left unsaid.

“You were together for almost ten years, weren’t you?”

“Eight years in the same castle, with many trainee knights.”

Adrien spoke bluntly. As with many trainee knights, Cyril had been one too.

“But Sir Tezar is hardly an ordinary trainee knight. How many trainees have such looks and physique? I doubt I could have seen one with my own eyes.”

The woman, imagining Cyril passing by earlier, blushed slightly. Others at the table seemed to agree.

“How could anyone not look at someone so outstanding?”

That was the general mood.

“Indeed, he was not ordinary.”

Adrien smoothed her furrowed brow.

When first met, Cyril had been very small and so pale that it seemed he could die any day.

Yet the Tezar these women knew was a 6.2-bru (about 189cm) tall, sensual, unparalleled beauty—a man from a dream.

Adrien could not go around telling everyone that Tezar had been frail and that she had worried he might collapse and die as a child.

“Sir Tezar is just a long-time friend. There are no personal feelings—only friendship, of course.”

Adrien repeated the response she had rehearsed hundreds of times over the past three months in the capital:

Sir Tezar and I have no relationship. He is just a friend. He is merely one of my father’s students.

“Mademoiselle Cassinel may see it that way, but isn’t Sir Tezar different?”

“Yes, his gaze just now was unusual.”

“He was definitely looking this way, wasn’t he?”

The firm reply silenced the questioning eyes.

Adrien could not know Cyril’s thoughts, but if she could, she would answer for him:

“There is no such thing.”