Chapter 11
The hallway leading from the garden back to the mansion was strangely quiet.
Only the sound of footsteps echoed rhythmically.
The commotion from earlier had vanished as though it had never happened.
Still carrying the magical beast tightly in her arms, Sole absentmindedly gazed out the window.
The garden gradually grew farther away.
The flowers still seemed to be glowing faintly.
“…Sole.”
Walking beside her, Yuris called out.
“Hmm?”
“Are you tired?”
“Mmm…”
Sole thought for a moment before answering.
“My body feels fine.”
Then she added,
“But my head is tired.”
“An honest answer. Good.”
Mishnight’s voice came from ahead.
When Sole looked up, her father wore his usual expressionless face.
But compared to earlier, his gaze seemed slightly gentler.
“You’re going straight to bed today.”
“Huh? But it’s still daytime—”
“Go to bed.”
The pressure in his voice left no room for argument.
Sole immediately closed her mouth.
Shurles sighed from nearby.
“Well, I can’t blame her. That was exhausting.”
“Which part?”
Sole tilted her head.
“All of it.”
Aalto nodded in agreement.
“Especially the last part. That was far too much information at once.”
“Too much information…”
Repeating the phrase, Sole looked down at the magical beast in her arms.
“Hey, about that person earlier.”
“Prince Verunoa?”
“Yeah.”
After a brief pause, Sole asked,
“What kind of person is he?”
No one answered immediately.
For a moment, the atmosphere in the hallway froze.
Yuris smiled awkwardly.
“How should I put it…”
“He’s a troublesome type.”
Shurles answered instantly.
“Brother, that’s not exactly a proper explanation.”
“It’s the truth.”
Aalto added,
“He’s too rational. He skips over human emotions halfway through the process.”
Sole blinked.
“Skips over them…?”
“He’s that kind of man.”
Mishnight spoke briefly.
Then, after a short pause, he continued.
“However.”
Everyone looked toward him.
“He wasn’t lying.”
Those words changed the atmosphere once more.
Sole blinked softly.
“…Really?”
“At the very least, he was serious.”
Mishnight’s gaze sharpened slightly.
“Even when he said he came here to ‘observe’ you.”
Sole looked down at the magical beast.
She gently stroked its fluffy head.
“What does ‘observe’ mean?”
“I think it means he wants to study you.”
Yuris answered.
“Your magical power, your physical condition, things like that.”
“I see…”
Sole still looked like she only half understood.
Then she quietly said,
“But…”
“Hmm?”
“He did say I could keep petting fluffy things.”
“Don’t use that as your standard!”
Shurles immediately shot back.
The atmosphere relaxed a little.
But Mishnight remained quiet.
Only his gaze seemed fixed on something far away.
“…This is troublesome.”
The words sounded as though they were directed at no one in particular.
When they returned to the mansion, the maids rushed toward them all at once.
“Welcome back!”
“Are you feeling all right, my lady?!”
“The barrier’s reaction was far too strong…!”
It was noisy.
The silence from earlier felt like a lie.
Amid the commotion, Sole stood there blankly.
“…As I thought.”
She muttered quietly.
“Just going outside is a lot of work.”
Yuris let out a wry smile.
“When you get used to it, it becomes even more work.”
“I don’t like the sound of that…”
Despite her complaint, Sole looked just a little happy.
Verunoa Side
The voice came again.
“…Hey, Verunoa.”
It wasn’t echoing inside his head.
It felt as though the speaker were standing right beside him.
“What is it?”
“Something interesting is happening right now.”
The tone was light.
As casual as small talk.
“Where?”
“Inside the barrier of a duke’s territory in the neighboring kingdom.”
“…What?”
His eyebrow twitched involuntarily.
“Why are you looking at a place like that?”
“I’m not looking. I’m just sensing it. You know, we’re connected.”
That was true.
A contract with a High Spirit.
Though “contract” wasn’t quite the right word.
It wasn’t domination.
Nor was it servitude.
It was simply coexistence.
They got along well, so they formed a connection.
That was all.
“So, what’s happening?”
“A vessel has begun to move.”
At those words, Verunoa stopped walking.
A vessel.
One of those vague terms spirits occasionally used.
There was no precise definition.
Yet they only ever used it when referring to something undeniably important.
“Who?”
“Belinoar Sole ≠ Neferiate.”
The answer came immediately.
“…That sickly young lady?”
“Yep. That girl.”
The spirit sounded more amused than usual.
“Hey, Verunoa. You should probably hurry.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s interesting.”
“That is not a reason.”
“But it’s true.”
So casual.
Yet this spirit never lied.
Which made it troublesome.
“What condition is she in?”
“Not normal.”
“Be specific.”
“She’s collapsing, yet somehow still functioning.”
At that moment, something caught in Verunoa’s chest.
That was a contradiction.
As a magical structure, such a thing should have been impossible.
“Do I need to go?”
“I think so.”
After a brief pause, the spirit continued.
“Actually, you’ve already noticed, haven’t you?”
“…Noticed what?”
“That you’re curious.”
“I am merely interested in her as an observation subject.”
“Hmmm.”
He could practically hear the spirit smiling.
“Then go observe her.”
So lighthearted.
Far too lighthearted.
Yet that casual attitude somehow carried absolute certainty.
“Location?”
“The garden.”
“Close.”
“Yep. If you leave now, you’ll make it in time.”
The spirit sounded slightly excited.
“Hey, Verunoa.”
“What?”
“I think that girl—”
A brief pause.
“—is the type who’ll destroy your idea of normal.”
“…I see.”
“Yep. So let’s go see.”
The spirit sounded like it was inviting him on an outing.
And yet—
He didn’t dislike the idea.
If anything, he found himself slightly intrigued.
“Very well.”
As he began constructing a spatial transfer magic circle, he muttered,
“One final question.”
“What?”
“Is she dangerous?”
The spirit answered immediately.
“At the moment, no.”
“A vague answer.”
“Because…”
There was a hint of laughter in its voice.
“It hasn’t been decided yet whether she’s dangerous or not.”
Then the transfer activated.
The world shifted.
The air changed.
A garden.
A place where the flow of magical power was almost unnaturally beautiful.
And at its center—
A girl.
Surrounded by silver-white magical beasts, she simply sat there petting them.
“…That’s her?”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
“Yep. That’s her.”
The spirit was seeing the same scene.
“What do you think?”
“The honest answer?”
“Obviously.”
A brief silence.
Then—
“She’s really weird.”
“…I agree.”
But the next words stopped his thoughts entirely.
“But you know—”
“What?”
“I think you and that girl are surprisingly compatible.”
“Based on what?”
“My intuition.”
An immediate answer.
The spirit was being its usual self.
Yet that intuition had never once been wrong.
Verunoa took a single step forward.
“Then I shall confirm it myself.”
“Yep. That’s the right choice.”
The spirit was laughing.
“Hey, Verunoa.”
“What?”
“You know, I think you’ve just drawn yourself—”
Its voice sounded particularly amused.
“—the first truly troublesome life you’ve had in a long time.”
“…Be quiet.”
Even as he said that—
His eyes never left the girl.
