Leif looked over at Listinger.
The other woman had a head of golden hair and clear green eyes, a shade deeper than Sophie’s. When she looked at someone, her gaze was incredibly gentle. Her body was slim and graceful, but because of her poor health she seemed fragile, as if a single gust of wind might topple her.
Leif suddenly remembered the rumors that spread through the royal capital about the side effects of black magic—the gossip that the “queen’s” so‑called heart disease was the price she paid for using it.
But looking at Listinger and Sophie now, it was obvious their situation was nothing like those melodramatic stories of women betraying each other over a man. Leif had heard Listinger’s name from the “queen’s” own mouth, and in the king’s last words played by the prophet’s tree‑flute, Listinger had been mentioned as the woman entrusted to assist Sophie. That Listinger and Princess Sophie were very close friends was something already confirmed from multiple sources, and seeing them so intimate at this moment only reinforced it. There was no way their relationship was fake.
Then what about the black magic?
And who was that so‑called evil witch from the rumors?
Leif’s line of reasoning jammed right there.
When Sophie turned her head, she saw the brown‑haired shepherd girl’s stunned face. She jolted to her feet. Listinger couldn’t withdraw her hand in time and accidentally yanked at her tender scalp. Sophie scrunched up her little face, clapped a hand over her head and hissed through her teeth, looking at Leif with an expression that was equal parts startled and angry.
“What are you doing here?”
Her face flushed red, then pale, then red again. She instinctively grabbed hold of Listinger and looked around, as if she wanted to find somewhere to stuff her out of sight.
Listinger leaned in with a smile and whispered into Sophie’s ear. She spoke so softly Leif only caught scattered fragments, something like:
“Lady Knight can be trusted… I think she’s already figured it out…”
Then Listinger set her hands on Sophie’s shoulders and spoke to the obviously reluctant little princess.
“All right, Sophie. You’ve been out for quite a while already. You should head back to the palace.”
Her mild tone carried a thread of firmness, somewhere between that of a friend and a guardian.
Sophie gave Leif a look that was impossible to read.
Leif thought, Lily the sheep used to look at her like that on the road, right after being caught head‑first in a sack of stolen rations—
but the shepherd girl now could no longer grab a certain pair of sheep ears and lecture them. She could only straighten her back and school her expression into one of deeper respect and solemnity.
Sophie stared at Leif for a few moments more, then swept away in long strides.
“Lady Knight, please don’t hold it against her.”
Listinger watched the direction Sophie had gone for a long time before slowly turning back to Leif. Warm light rippled in those deep green eyes.
“She’s just far too shy.”
She pointed to a dark wicker armchair opposite and motioned for Leif to sit. Taking a glass pot from a maid, she poured some tea into the cup before Leif, then finally began to speak.
“You must be full of questions, Lady Knight—about everything that has happened. We never meant to drag you into this…”
Listinger explained that before the old king died, he had entrusted Sophie to her care. But even at that time, the Kingdom of Esea’s situation was already unstable. The royal side branches, seeing the king old and without a son, had long since coveted the throne. The nobles each took their own side, unwilling to submit to a young princess. Some even decided to eliminate the problem at the root and plotted to kill Sophie.
“…That child is innocent and carefree, completely ignorant of the ways of the world. If we had thrown her into that chaos back then, she would have been swallowed whole by viperous, scorpion‑hearted people in no time. So His Late Majesty turned to Lady Natiaveda…”
At the sight of Leif blinking hard and fast, Listinger realized she had let something slip. She covered her mouth, her green eyes flickering.
“Oh my, from that look… you really don’t know? But Lady Natiaveda is so close to you. She even told me herself she was going to move in with you so the two of you could catch up…”
Catch up?
Leif thought back. The encounter at the city gate had been the very first time they’d met. Who would have guessed that in Lady Natiaveda’s story to others, the two of them were already old acquaintances with plenty to reminisce about.
Leif rubbed her nose.
“Oh. She… hasn’t told me that yet.”
“No wonder. I imagine she was afraid of exposing the princess’s identity.”
Listinger lifted her cup and took a small sip, smiling in understanding.
“Lady Natiaveda notices things down to the last speck of dust. After turning herself into Sophie’s double, she said she would place Sophie in the care of an old friend. I never expected back then that she would turn Sophie into a little lamb. I doubt anyone else could have guessed it either. Until the situation settled, she absolutely refused to let the girl’s identity be exposed.”
Old friend?
Leif’s fingers dug absently at the armrest.
She remembered the first time she’d seen Lily. The bad‑tempered little sheep had been nothing but skin and bones, its body covered in whip marks from “disobedience,” sparse wool clotted with blood and the black grime of the livestock market, breathing as if at any moment it would simply stop.
If it hadn’t been for that one sharp‑hoofed kick that made Leif suddenly decide to buy this cheap but stubborn little beast, Lily would probably still be in that sheep market, gnawing on rotting grass and wilted leaves while nobody spared it a glance—
that was assuming it had even managed to live this long.
If that sheep dealer counted as one of Natiaveda’s “old friends,” then this cover story was a little too ruthless.
Leif reached for her teacup.
Listinger said,
“Lady Natiaveda also told me that when the time came, her old friend—a brave girl—would, as a knight, escort the princess back to Keno City.”
“Pff—”
Leif choked. The tea sprayed, spattering down to soak the front of her clothes.
“After I married Noren, he very quickly started purging the side branches of the royal family. I used the opportunity to gather proof of his dealings with foreign powers…”
Listinger trailed off, looking worriedly at the shepherd girl who had nearly jumped out of her chair.
“Lady Knight, are you all right?”
—
Listinger kept Leif for quite a long time. But the more Leif heard, the deeper her confusion grew. It was only when she had eaten lunch and drunk afternoon tea and was finally preparing to leave that she suddenly remembered the real purpose of her visit:
Money.
By rights, she had completed an A‑rank commission. But the ones who had posted the commission—the former king and queen—had already lost their positions.
As for the current Princess Sophie…
Leif had spent a long time with her in sheep form, but now she found the little princess harder and harder to read. She no longer dared hope she would receive her knight’s sash here in Keno City.
Touching the empty pouch at her waist, Leif sighed.
Maybe… maybe they’d at least pay her back in turnips for all the ones she’d fed her…
She looked up and saw Sophie standing at the doorway. Leif had no idea whether she’d been standing there ever since Listinger sent her “back to the palace,” or if she had left and come back again.
Leif knew her face had to look awful at that moment. She tried to pull her mouth into a smile; the corners of her lips had only just started to move when—
“What are you still doing here?”
Sophie shot her a glare, then lifted her skirt and rushed past her straight into Listinger’s arms.
Listinger had been about to see Leif to the door. She bent her head and caught Sophie as the girl barreled into her. Sophie pressed close and whispered a few words in her ear.
At the gate of the courtyard, tucked deep in a narrow alley, Leif stood slumped in the afternoon breeze. It was late spring nearing summer, sunlight warm and generous, yet watching Sophie and Listinger cling to each other so naturally, Leif still felt a chill.
She felt like a bankrupt small‑town citizen who had been kicked out of her house. On an unusually long and bitterly cold winter night, she had come out to beg for food, only to stumble upon someone else huddling around the last stove that had once belonged to her.
Leif stretched out a hand, then slowly let it fall. She turned away and started down the winding path.
“Lady Knight!”
Listinger called after her.
Leif turned.
Sophie was leaning against Listinger’s side, saying nothing, her eyes darting away in embarrassment.
Listinger gave Leif a playful wink.
“Three days from now is your knighting ceremony. Don’t forget to attend.”
The brown‑haired shepherd girl froze on the spot. Her desolate expression, halfway through turning into joy, suddenly got stuck. The result was a twisted look that made it seem like she might burst into tears instead.
Leif sniffled at the oddly cold feeling in her nose and managed a disbelieving,
“Ah?”
A maid came over from beside the four‑wheeled carriage and addressed Leif.
“The princess and Lady Natiaveda spent several hours at the Keno racetrack choosing a fine horse for you. The horses at Keno are famous across the entire Deia continent. Even so, Her Highness wasn’t at ease—she personally test‑rode hundreds of them. She said her knight’s mount had to be the very best, because her knight is the very best…”
“Dora!”
Sophie cried out in mortification, and when she saw Leif’s expression, she simply buried her face in Listinger’s arms.
Listinger stroked her head soothingly.
The maid, apparently named Dora, continued,
“We came to consult Lady Listinger today precisely about the knighting ceremony. It was originally supposed to be a surprise for you…”
“Sophie…”
Leif’s breath caught. Looking at the princess’s slightly flushed cheek, she struggled for a long moment to find words for what she was feeling. In the end, one sentence tumbled out on its own.
“Your Highness, to be allowed to devote my loyalty to you is already the greatest honor of my life. And now you even grant me a noble name and a fine steed. I can only pledge to lay down my life for you, to spill my blood and scatter my bones in your service…”
“You’ve memorized so many knightly slogans,” the little princess muttered angrily into Listinger’s chest. “Save them for three days from now.”
—
Just before the princess returned to the palace, the maid took out a money pouch and handed it to Leif.
“This is from Lady Natiaveda, entrusted to me to pass along.”
Leif accepted the plump pouch and was surprised at how light it felt. Inside, layer after layer of silk cloth wrapped only one gold Gesha, one silver, three copper, and one iron.
She did a quick calculation and realized that, together with the few coins she had left, this would be just enough to cover her rent, food, water, and other expenses—
not off by even a single iron Gesha.
She was sincerely grateful for the charcoal in this snowfall of hardship, but a very subtle feeling rose in her heart.
The would‑be knight unfolded the innermost silk and found writing on it.
To my dear Lady Knight:
The law of my people states that one may only hand over one’s property to a spouse. If it is lent out, the monthly interest is five percent.
I hope you will repay it as soon as possible—or work hard to change your status.
Natiaveda Leonard
