Chapter 1: Princess Elizabeth

The visitors arrived through the mist early that morning, knocking on the door to the girls’ dormitory. While St. Edward’s Private Academy was surrounded by brick walls, there were many portions of said wall that were left destroyed from an old war. The unsavory sort did enter from time to time, though it was doubtful a bandit would knock on the front door...

The dormitory’s dorm mother was a woman who had considerable military experience. She opened the door in her pajamas, the longsword of her forefathers ready in one hand.

Six knights were standing outside the door. Under normal circumstances they would be wearing bright red mantles, but right now they were dressed in black overcoats.

“Sorry for troubling you so early in the morning. We are the personal guards of Queen Charlotte.”

“What...!?”

Just seeing how burly and polite these men were was enough to convince her they were the real deal. Of course, they also wore pendants displaying the royal crest to prove this, but their courteous tone and the sincere look in their eyes left no room for doubt.

“We believe there is an Elize Archibald in this dormitory,” said the knight at the lead.

“Th-There is.”

The dorm mother knew Elize’s real identity. In fact, she was the only person in the dorm who did—beside Elize herself, of course. She could infer that the fated day had finally come, even though the girl was still just a student.

“You are aware of the circumstances?” the knight asked.

“I am.”

“Then that makes matters easier. Please guide us to her room... The room of Princess Elizabeth Victoria.”

Elizabeth, who had deliberately decided to go by “Elize” in the academy, received a knock at her door. She had already finished her usual morning preparations and cautiously peeked her head into the hall to see six knights fall to their knees in reverence.

Other students popped their heads out to see what was going on, but quickly receded when they received a stern glare from their dorm mother. Regardless, they were at a curious age, and the everyday life of a student tended to be lacking in excitement. And so a few continued peeping through the gaps in their doors regardless.

It would be impossible to conduct what was happening in secret, and so the knights did not seem to be bothered by their spectators.

“Princess Elizabeth, we offer our deepest apologies for the sudden visit. Please spare us some mercy, for this is an emergency.”

“...Has something happened to the queen?”

“In regard to Her Majesty, her condition has taken an unfortunate turn. The physician has concluded that she does not have much time.”

“...Oh.”

“That is why Her Majesty entrusted us with this, asking that we pass it on to you.”

The lead knight held out an indigo-colored jewelry box. Elize ran her fingers along its intricately designed sides, feeling out each detail as she opened its lid with her other hand.

Inside was the Rose Ring—a ring engraved with the royal seal, signifying the ruler of High Britannia. It was made of gold, and its head was modeled after a rose.

“You’re asking me... to become queen...?”

“Such is Queen Charlotte’s will.”

The knights were as still as statues, awaiting her decision. For a brief moment, Elizabeth hesitated. Should she accept this, she would never be able to return to her normal life. She could never go to school again. From this very moment onward, she would shoulder the nation. In exchange for great power and authority, she would lose so much as a human being.

“...I know the responsibility that comes with my position... I’m not going to run away.”

She took the ring and slid it onto her left ring finger. It was a little too big for her, and would surely fall off if she didn’t take care to hold on to it.

“It’s a little big for my hands.”

“The official coronation will take place once we have Parliament’s approval. However, as per ancient custom, from this very moment, Lady Elizabeth, you are the queen of High Britannia.”

She was not yet queen by modern law, but the oldest laws of the land recognized her as having taken the throne. As knights placed heavy respect on tradition, they already saw it appropriate to treat her as their queen; they removed their swords from their belts, scabbard and all, and placed them on the floor.

“This is no palace, there is no one to bear witness, and we can only offer such a simple ceremony, but... we knights of the royal guard swear our everlasting loyalty to Queen Elizabeth.”

The girl nodded. “Thank you. I shall count on you to defend both myself and this country.”

“Even should it cost us our lives!”

The knights locked hands and lowered their heads to the floor. Then they immediately re-equipped their swords, wearing grim expressions as they stood up.

“Getting right to business, Lady Elizabeth—you must head to the palace at once.”

“To meet with Her Majesty?”

“...That may be wishful thinking.”

Elizabeth could infer from the knights’ expressions that she should prepare for the worst. By the laws of High Britannia, after the death of the queen, the country would mourn for one whole week. This period was known as the “Seven Days of Silence.” Once the mourning concluded, Parliament would recognize the designated successor and announce her as the new queen. This was known as the “Daybreak Declaration.”

“So we must return before the week of mourning is up... Is that what you’re telling me? Is the situation really that dire?”

The knights kept their silence. It seemed they really were working against time.

Elizabeth glanced back into her room, looking one last time at the study desk she was so familiar with, her uniform that was hung up on the wall, her well-worn student bag... Then, the face of a certain boy crossed her mind. She stood in silence for a moment before shaking her head; from this point forward, they were all no more than fond memories.

“...We must leave at once, correct?”

“Correct. It should be safe to say that the sirs and madams of Princess Margaret’s faction are not looking forward to your arrival.”

“No doubt they intend to trample over Her Majesty’s noble will!” another knight from near the back snapped. Those around did remonstrate him for the sudden outburst, but it was clear that even he was speaking lightly.

Elizabeth nodded. “So you’re saying I may be assassinated.”

“Not on our watch. We’ve already taken precautions. Knights dressed as us are headed here from the palace by carriage. The mountains in the way make it a five-day trip by carriage, but... we used the steam train to reach Applewood in a day.”

“You used the steam train?” That was a surprise. The royal guard were the ones responsible for holding ceremonies; they valued appearances to an astounding degree.

The lead knight laughed, then gave Elizabeth a proud grin. “I’m sure that Princess Margaret’s faction would not expect it either. No doubt we’re one step ahead. From the station, we traveled here on the fastest horses. There is a carriage prepared for you outside. It may not be appropriate for a queen, but—”

“I have not yet received Parliament’s approval. A borrowed carriage is more than enough.”

“My gratitude. While Princess Margaret’s troops are chasing the royal carriage, we should be able to return to the royal capital by train.”

By custom, a new queen was to arrive in the royal carriage. But this was no time to be a stickler for tradition.

Elizabeth walked over to the closet at the back of her room and reached inside.

“I’ll be ready at once. I won’t keep you waiting.”

The six knights lowered their heads in unison, and in no time at all, the girl who had been known as “Elize” was headed for Applewood Station as Princess Elizabeth, in a carriage surrounded by guards.

She could hear the schoolhouse bell chiming behind her.

✧ ✧ ✧

The tower bell rang. Across the brick wall-lined paths, crowds of students entered the school building.

Bastian stifled a yawn as he stepped into the classroom, then glanced over at Elize’s desk. As unusual as it was, she was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t involved in any before-school club activities, but would always arrive at school considerably early regardless so that she could do some studying or tidying up.

“Mn... And I spent the whole night writing, as well...”

Bastian slapped his bag. Bound in leather was his greatest masterpiece—something he had spent an entire sleepless night working on. Try as he might, the hoof-print just wouldn’t go away.

“Fufufu... Shouldn’t be long now... Read and tremble at emotions you never even knew you had!”

His monologue must have been too loud, as the students around him were now eying him rather dubiously. But this was inconsequential compared to the fact that Elize hadn’t shown up yet. Another anxious moment passed, and she still wasn’t there.

He noticed the girls seated by Elize’s desk gossiping among themselves. They were getting quite into it. While Bastian did not have many friends in class, he was generally terrible at showing reservation, or waiting for the right opportunity, or being passive and the like. The moment something came to mind, he would immediately act on it.

He called out to the whispering group. “Hey, you got a minute?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?” one girl answered.

This foreign country was wonderful. Whenever he tried to strike up a conversation with noble girls back in the Belgarian courts, they would all either turn pale in the face and cower or their retainers would jump into the fray, staking their lives on extracting them from the situation. For some peculiar reason, Bastian was feared by the nobles. But in this school, he could just talk to people normally.

“Has Elize caught a cold or something?”

“Err...”

The girls exchanged looks. Whatever it was that was on their minds was clearly hard to say.

“What’s going on? You trying to keep secrets from me?”

“N-Not exactly...” One of the girls’ faces was beginning to look nervous.

Oops, my bad... He intended to make it as an earnest, kind, and friendly young man in this school.

“Ah, sorry. It’s okay. There’s nothing to be worried about. Won’t you please tell me?”

“Y-You see... Lady Elize was...”

“She’s a lady now?”

“That’s right. Lady Elize... Who would have thought she was actually Princess Elizabeth Victoria!?”

Kaboom! The girl’s declaration was so sudden that Bastian could have sworn he heard the explosion as the bombshell dropped. Others had clearly overheard, as voices of surprise and wonder filled the room.

“Hm...” Bastian gave a small nod. “She was? You learn something new every day. So, yeah, is she off with a cold or something?”

“You’re not surprised!? Ah, did you already know!? You two were pretty close.”

“No, this is the first I’m hearing of it...”

Those who had been looking at him dubiously were now staring in complete disbelief.

Crap. Guess you’re supposed to act surprised when you hear your classmate’s a princess of High Britannia!

“Whoa! H-How totally surprising!”

“...So from the point of view of a Belgarian, High Britannian royalty is nothing special, hm? I see.”

Not only were the girls now staring at him coldly, the rest of the class was too. Talk about harsh...

“T-That’s not what I meant.”

Bastian hadn’t meant to come across like he was insulting the country; he had just ended up thinking “Oh, hey, so she’s like me.” His feelings of kinship had won out over his surprise.

“Well, you are a Belgarian noble. I suppose I can’t blame you... So anyway, Lady Elizabeth isn’t absent because of something as trivial as a cold.”

“Then why isn’t she here today?”

“The knights came for her, and she’s headed to the castle. I’m certain she’ll most probably become our new queen, for sure!” The girl was so excited that her last sentence came out rather muddled.

The classroom was astir again, both honored to have one of their classmates become queen and anxious over how lightly they had treated her before. Dick and his lackeys in particular were looking rather pale. They had clashed with the princess a few times over Bastian, so it stood to reason.

“Mn? Hold on a tick... Then you’re telling me she’s not gonna be here for the whole day!?”

“What are you talking about!? She’s not a commoner anymore! She’s not even a noble! The queen of High Britannia doesn’t even leave the castle unless something drastic happens.”

“Eeh!? Then... if I want to see that gal...”

“Mind your manners. You must refer to her as Princess Elizabeth or Her Highness.”

“For real...? If she becomes queen...”

“She already belongs to a world distant from our own.”

“I’ll only ever be able to see her in diplomatic meetings... Hell no, I don’t wanna become a diplomat!”

“Err, diplomat? Of Belgaria!? Don’t tell me your house is actually some distinguished family. If I’m remembering right, aren’t you from a house of counts?”

While counts were on the higher end when it came to status, they weren’t quite important enough to act as representatives of a country. That was precisely why Bastian had decided to say he was from a house of counts when making his false identity.

Having been reminded of this by the girl, Bastian finally regained his composure.

“Ah... No... You’re right. We’re definitely counts. Yes, of course we are.”

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it—it’ll be near impossible for a Belgarian count to seek an audience with the queen.”

“You’re... right.”

As Bastian was in actual fact not a count, but Belgaria’s third prince, his royal standing might afford him an opportunity. But if he came as a diplomat, could he just hand over the story he had written along with letters and treaties from the emperor? Definitely not.

“...Hey, what you said a minute ago... About probably being certain she’ll surely become something or other...”

“Yeah?”

“That means she’s not actually queen yet, right!?”

Bastian closed in as he spoke, causing the girl he was talking with to fearfully step back.

“Th-That’s right. In High Britannia, we have the Daybreak Declaration first. Only then is the new queen crowned.”

Now that he thought about it, Bastian was sure he had heard that before. The death of the current queen would be followed by the Seven Days of Silence, but it seemed the girl had deliberately not mentioned that. Even Bastian had enough prudence to avoid the subject.

“Yeah, so she’s not queen yet, right? Right! So if I want to give it to her, now’s my last chance!”

“G-Give her what?”

“I have to meet her before she becomes queen, no matter what.”

“You mean... you have feelings you need to get across?”

“Mn? Sure, I guess you could put it like that.”

After all, every story ever written expressed the feelings of its author in one way or another. In Bastian’s case, this feeling was “Isn’t this so freaking cool!?” and other similar emotions.

The girl’s cheeks reddened. “My, so it’s a love that transcends status! Borders, even!”

“Eh? That’s not what it’s about at all.”

Bastian had written about something else entirely. As the character in his story very aptly summarized: “Magic powers reside in my right hand, and I use those powers to beat the ever-loving crap out of demons from hell.” It didn’t even come close to a love story...

But the girl simply shook her head. Her eyes had gone so dreamy it was like they were giving off sparkles.

“It’s okay, no need to be embarrassed! I’ll be rooting for you!”

“...Oh, really?”

Something just wasn’t sitting right. But rather than questioning things and potentially inviting her hatred, it was a lot easier to just leave the misunderstanding be and accept her support. Besides, he had no chance of getting his story to Elize without knowing where she was.

“Do you know where Elize is right now? Did she set off for the castle by carriage?”

The girl frowned. “It’s not ‘Elize’; refer to her as ‘Lady Elizabeth.’” But despite her complaint, she still answered his question. “The carriage was headed for town, so I’m thinking they’re going to Applewood Station. I doubt they’ve arrived yet; they departed not long before we left our dorm.”

The classroom did not have anything as extravagant as a wall-mounted clock, so Bastian produced a pocket watch from inside his uniform.

“So about thirty minutes ago. Applewood Station’s three hours by carriage, right?”

“Yes. But bear in mind they’d also have to wait for the train, so you might be able catch her at the platform.”

But once she was on board, it would probably be too late.

“Hahhhhhh.” Bastian let out a deep breath. “I’ve been slacking off a lot lately, so I don’t know for sure, but... if I go all out, I just might be able to catch them on their way.”

“Pardon?”

“Well, I’m leaving early. Tell the teacher I said hi!”

Bastian scooped up his school bag and dashed out of the classroom. His classmates watched him, rather confused, while the girl who was still under some strange misunderstanding waved her handkerchief encouragingly.

If she’s not queen yet, I should still be okay to hand my book over. It may be hard to get her feedback, but Elize’s a stickler for this kinda stuff, so I’m sure she’ll write letters.

Bastian was treating the situation quite casually, but only because he had absolutely no understanding of High Britannia’s political landscape.

Bastian sprinted through the cold April air. There was a sharp pain in his chest, and he was barely able to catch his breath; it had been so long since he had run as fast as he could.

His bag was only getting in the way, so after taking out his only necessity—his black book—he tossed the bag somewhere by the side of the road. He then tucked the book into his trousers, tightening his belt to secure it in place.

His leather shoes were quickly wearing down, but this was in no way the fault of their maker. Indeed, no shoe in the world was designed to endure a human who could run as fast as a horse.

✧ ✧ ✧

The knight’s name was Graham. He was the eldest son of a distinguished house that had served High Britannian royalty for generations. The sword he had spent years of training to master in his hand and the pride of his clan in his heart, he took on this mission having resolved to become the princess’s shield.

Even when laws changed and the industrial revolution transformed people’s lifestyles, the royal guard would honor traditions and protect the customs of their forefathers. Yet despite that, Graham had dared to use the royal carriage as bait, entrusting six of his subordinates with the bright red mantles of the royal guard and telling them to protect the green carriage. It was possible that they might meet their demise at the hands of assassins, but this had been no mystery to them—these were true patriots.

By using the steam train, Graham and the other five knights had managed to jump ahead of the decoy and safely meet up with Princess Elizabeth. He had considered leading an army to retrieve her, but that would leave the palace and the sickly queen inadequately staffed. Furthermore, the preparations and transit required to lead such large numbers would take up far more time—time he did not have to spare.

He had nothing but apprehensions... but all was going well so far.

To prioritize speed, they were using a small carriage only pulled by two horses. St. Edward’s Private Academy was so far to the east of High Britannia that it could be considered a backwater—in fact, just a little more east and one would reach the ocean. As it was a remote region, the roads were not properly maintained, and there were no coach relay stations; the same horses would need to pull their carriage all the way up to the train station, so they couldn’t risk pushing them too hard.

As six horsemen would be conspicuous, four sandwiched the carriage—two on either side—while Graham and another sat across from Elizabeth. It was a four-seater carriage. Apart from the princess, their only fellow traveler was the owner and driver of this borrowed coach.

It was a quiet trip; Elizabeth hadn’t said a word since they left the school.

“......”

“Are you feeling unwell?” Graham asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, there is no issue. I am a little tense, but... more importantly, I deeply regret not honoring one of my promises.”

“A promise to one of your school friends?”

“Yes. But it was a silly promise between children. I’m sure he will understand.”

“It is a matter of course.” Graham didn’t ask for the details, instead nodding and offering words of agreement to pep her up.

A boy. Graham’s heart sank upon hearing the beautiful young princess mention a young man of a similar age to herself, but he very quickly reassured himself that it was nothing to worry about. Elizabeth was a wise woman; she would not allow private affairs to impede her work. From now on, her life would be devoted to her country.

As these thoughts passed through his head, Graham realized he had been unwittingly staring at Elizabeth. She cast her eyes down.

“Mn...”

“M-My apologies, Lady Elizabeth.”

Graham averted his gaze to the outside world passing by. Trees spread out around them, as far as the eye could see. They were following a highway that cut straight through the forest, though it wasn’t paved. It must have rained the night before, as there were pools of water here and there.

This time, Elizabeth posed a question.

“...Have you ever written a story before?”

“You mean, like, a book? No. Aside from my studies, reports are just about the only thing I’ve ever written.”

“That’s quite normal.”

“What about you, Lady Elizabeth?”

“No... I don’t believe I have any stories worth telling.”

Graham deliberately went silent, not wanting to probe into the matter any further. He felt that Elizabeth gave off an air of vulnerability when talking about the subject, and while that was both befitting of someone her age and a charming quality for a young woman to have, it was not something one would want to see in a monarch.

It’s okay, there’s nothing to worry about. Once she’s crowned, she will no longer be led astray by such worldly concerns. This is just a transitionary period—the moment before a butterfly emerges from its cocoon.

Or so that was what Graham believed.

All of a sudden, a gunshot echoed through the forest, immediately followed by a nearby scream.

“The cabman’s been shot!” yelled one of the knights.

Graham’s heart skipped a beat. They were riding in a box-shaped carriage. Their only doors were on the sides, meaning the cabman’s perch could only be accessed from the outside. It wouldn’t be easy for them to change drivers.

The cries of another knight could be heard outside. “Whip the horses, and don’t stop until we’ve reached town! It’s our only option!”

Graham placed a hand on his sword. His mind was racing.

What’s going on!?

The other knight inside the carriage had reached for his sword as well. His face was pale, his shoulders trembling.

“A-An ambush?”

“Then it must be bandits. There’s no way Princess Margaret’s faction could have caught on to us!”

“Ye— Whoa! A-Aren’t we going too fast!?”

The carriage was beginning to shake violently; they were clearly moving a lot faster than before. The forest path snaked left and right, and while a horse would normally be able to traverse it with relative ease, the carriage was too heavy for these turns. The fact that the highway was also rough and unmaintained only made matters worse.

They were going too fast. A sudden bump in the road threw them into the air, and Graham could feel the carriage begin to tip over.

“Egad! Lady Elizabeth—!!”

“Kyah!”

Graham threw his arms around the girl sitting across from him. Then came the impact.

The other knight in the carriage let out a pained yelp, while Graham suffered a sharp blow to the head. His consciousness faded as several more impacts struck the carriage until, eventually, it came to a stop.

Graham opened his eyes. He was sure he had only been unconscious for a few seconds, but how was he to know whether it had actually been minutes, or even hours? Carefully, he checked to make sure the girl was still wrapped in his arms.

“Lady Elizabeth, are you okay!?”

“...Y-Yes.”

“Thank heavens... Can you move?”

“I think so.”

The carriage was on its side. The knight riding with them hadn’t been so lucky; his head was grotesquely twisted in a direction that shouldn’t have been possible. But there was no time for a moment of silence.

“Lady Elizabeth, we must get out at once!”

Graham clambered up the seat, placing a hand on the side door that had become the roof. There was no way the enemy could have reached them yet. The carriage had been racing at a breakneck speed before tipping over; surely they had been able to distance themselves from the enemy who had ambushed them.

“Lady Elizabeth, please have one of the knights take you on his horse. It won’t be very comfortable but please, save our punishment for when you’ve reached the castle!”

“Wh-What about you!?”

“...I shall catch up later.”

Graham picked Elizabeth up and prepared to go outside. He had no idea how numerous their enemy was. If there were too many foes, the most he could do was buy her some time. But regardless—

“Against petty brigands, I won’t lose, no matter how many there are!”

“Are they really brigands?”

“They must be.”

Graham had almost no information to work with. He hadn’t even seen the enemy yet. That was why he needed to speak to the knights who had been surrounding the carriage; once he had a better idea what was going on, he would be able to make a decision. He could only hope they had followed. He needed to place Elizabeth in their care. And so, he pushed the door open and climbed out of the carriage.

His eye was immediately drawn to the motionless body of a fallen horse. Face-down on the ground nearby was a knight dressed in a black overcoat. The others were there too—all of Graham’s comrades, limp and unmoving.

“Wh-What could have...!?”

“...Are they... d-dead...?”

Elizabeth’s voice was quivering. Though a number of wars had taken place in her lifetime, this girl had been attending a relatively peaceful academy for nobles in the countryside. This was most likely the first time she had ever seen someone die in battle, so her unrest was understandable.

Even Graham was struggling to keep his calm. He had experience on the front lines, but it had been quite some time since he had stepped foot on the battlefield. Not to mention these were his comrades lying before him.

The important thing, he noted, is that the enemy is stronger than expected. Strong enough to take down members of the royal guard.

Footsteps approached from further down the road—the footsteps of soldiers. They held spears and guns, and wore the light armor of the High Britannian Army. The man leading them seemed to be the commander of a border battalion; he was wearing the blue uniform of a commissioned officer, with gold medals decorating his chest.

“You wretch! What unit are you from!? Did you attack knowing we’re the royal guard!?” Graham screamed.

“Pahahaha! How can you call yourselves the royal guard? You were traveling through the middle of nowhere in a borrowed carriage, and have tossed aside your symbolic scarlet mantles to don such a vulgar black. Your ancestors must be weeping.”

“My ancestors!? You know who we are and yet still you point your gun at me. Know your place!”

“I do this for the good of our nation.”

Graham drew his sword and stood to protect Elizabeth. The carriage was behind him, and the forest beyond that.

The soldiers of High Britannia, the commissioned officer at their lead, aimed their guns. They were a short distance away—perhaps thirty paces at most—and only numbered around three hundred.

But Graham was the only knight still standing; it would be near impossible to make an escape while protecting Elizabeth. He wiped the sweat trailing down his brow.

“...You are an officer of High Britannia. This noble personage is Queen Elizabeth, the lady whom Her Highness Queen Charlotte herself has named as her successor. Do you intend to harm her?”

“Another pacifist queen will only hinder the prosperity of our nation. Are you too stupid to understand that? The royal guard really are as useless as rusted blades.”

“Curse you...”

Not only did the man recognize Graham as a member of the royal guard, he knew that the girl before him was Princess Elizabeth. He readied his gun regardless.

“...Run, Lady Elizabeth,” Graham whispered, “I’ll buy you some time.”

“How could I run!? Do you want to die!?”

“What I want is irrelevant... I was naive. They saw through our decoys.”

“But how...?”

“Princess Margaret’s aide, Colonel Oswald Coulthard. It must be. I’ve heard he’s a sharp one.”

That was why Graham had been so wary. He had given it much thought; had they brought an army to retrieve Elizabeth, there was no chance they would have made it back before the queen died. That was why the royal guard had gone alone.

But in the end, that had been the wrong decision to make. How did they see through our plan? Graham couldn’t say, but he knew now that this ambush had been an unavoidable reality.

Their situation was hopeless. Even so, Graham prayed Elizabeth alone would be saved. He gave her a light push on the back.

“Please go! I can’t fight with you around!”

“Y-You can’t die.”

“Of course not. I’ll catch up later!” Graham said. But he knew it was a lie.

Graham glanced to the side to make sure Elizabeth had started running, then took his stance. Countless guns were aimed at him, and they would no doubt open fire should he try to move any closer. His comrades had fallen, and soon he would join them. His one regret was that he had been unable to safely lead the future queen to the palace.

Graham wiped the tears from his eyes. Oh, dear God in heaven, hast thou abandoned me?

Elizabeth was gone.

Graham stood firm. His silver armor and steel shield would prove useless against High Britannia’s latest firearms; all he could hope to do was buy her as much time as possible.

The enemy commander raised one hand into the air. Then, he lowered it.

“Fire!!”

On his command, the air was filled with the crackle of gunfire.

✧ ✧ ✧

Elizabeth raced through the forest. She had never imagined the situation would be this terrible. Not wanting to cause any trouble for the knights, she had decided to wear leather boots, and thanks to that choice she was able to leave the highway and weave between the trees, straight through the dead branches and twigs littering the ground. Had she worn shoes that matched her best dress, she wouldn’t have even been able to run.

Unfortunately, she was still just a sixteen-year-old girl; she had no way of matching up to the trained legs of a soldier, even if they were clad in armor and carrying heavy guns.

The footsteps drew closer and closer. There were around three hundred soldiers. It was unlikely she would be able to hide without someone finding her.

A gunshot rang out, and the trunk of a tree burst open just as Elizabeth raced past it. They could see her.

The other soldiers were drawn to the gunshot. “I see her!” one cried.

Elizabeth could hear brief stints of laughter coming from behind. This was practically a fox hunt. She had never been particularly fond of fox hunts, and she swore that if she survived this, she would never take part in one for the rest of her days.

There was another gunshot, and an intense heat spread through Elizabeth’s shoulder.

“Eek!?”

It wasn’t the pain or the impact, but the sudden shock that caused her feet to tangle. She fell, her hand catching on a dry branch as it slammed against the ground.

“...!?”

Blood spilled from her pinky finger.

“She’s down!” one soldier yelled.

I... I can still move. I can still run. ...But what’s the point?

If she got up and continued to run, they would just take aim again. And this time, the shot would do more than just graze her shoulder. One clean round to the head would probably be painless, but the soldiers would most likely aim for her feet first to stop her from escaping. It wasn’t hard to imagine that a shot to the stomach would be excruciating.

“Urrgh...”

No matter what she did, this was the end. She felt she had to apologize to Graham, who had sacrificed himself so that she could get away; to all of the other knights who had died because of her; and to the queen, who had chosen someone like her as her successor. If she drew her last breath here, they would surely be disappointed in her.

Elizabeth also thought of her gorgeous cousin, Margaret. Would war follow when she became queen? They had talked a few times before, but what stuck in Elizabeth’s mind the most was how Margaret would simply laugh and say, “I don’t know anything about politics; I only care that I’m kept entertained.”

Elizabeth also knew that more and more people were advocating war. Those supporters, however, were predominantly men. Elizabeth wanted to apologize to the women—those who would lose their fathers, their brothers, their husbands, and their sons. She wanted to apologize for not being able to protect their dear ones.

All those war advocates had never been in her current situation—fleeing from armed soldiers who were gunning for her life. If only they knew of the horrible, accursed reality that made her regret being born... Then surely they wouldn’t even consider going to war.

The footsteps closed in, and the voices grew clearer.

“That was my bullet!”

“No, it was mine!”

“Don’t be stupid, I took her down!”

“I’m the one who gave the order!”

It was practically a celebration. What would they do if they knew their target was still alive?

As the soldiers finally caught sight of Elizabeth, their starved eyes met hers.

“She’s alive!” someone screamed.

The men’s breathing became ragged. They let out a roar like a pack of savage beasts, then charged toward her.

Would Elizabeth be able to maintain her sanity to her last breath? She wasn’t confident she could. She was scared. So scared. So scared that she couldn’t even muster a prayer. She closed her eyes tight, bracing for the worst, when—

“ELIIIIIIZE!!”

Elizabeth heard a familiar voice—the voice of a boy who was clearing the trees faster than the wind, knocking down the soldiers in his path as though they were nothing. He embraced her even more intensely than Graham had.

A series of sharp cracks rang out as the soldiers opened fire once more.

The boy kicked the ground, moving before the bullets could even come close to finding their mark. They tore through the air where Elizabeth had been just a moment ago.

Even though he was holding another person, the boy was still as quick as a deer who had spent its whole life surviving in the forest’s depths, zigzagging from tree to tree. He even broke into a smile.

“Hah! You seriously think you’ll hit your target when you’re this desperate for blood!? You might as well be telling me when and where you’re going to shoot!”

“Y-You... No way...”

“Don’t talk, Elize! You’ll bite your tongue!”

The face of the boy holding her was so close—a boy she had resolved to never meet again.

“Bastian!?”

“What?”

“Wh-Why are you here!?”

“I made a promise.”

His casual expression made it seem like this was nothing out of the ordinary, but he was moving like the wind itself. The trees flashed by so quickly that Elizabeth wondered whether they had somehow boarded the steam train.

Ba-da-dum. Ba-da-dum. The noise of Bastian’s feet kicking the ground as he ran sounded like the thunder of a horse’s hooves.

“A promise...?”

“Yeah! You said you’d read my masterpiece when it was done!”

“...Are you a fool?”

“Hey now... Don’t tell me you were lying!”

“I wasn’t lying. Why would I lie about that...? But... you’re telling me you chased down a carriage for the sake of that promise?”

What’s more, he had saved her from soldiers armed with guns.

“Well, this isn’t quite what I had in mind.” Bastian frowned. “I imagined I’d just hand you the book while you were waiting at the station. You’re a real stickler, so I was sure you’d send me your thoughts in a letter or something.”

“I would at least do that much...”

“And then I see that the horses are dead, the people are dead, and the carriage is on its side.”

Elizabeth felt her breath catch in her throat as she thought back to the cabman and the knights who had died. Was Bastian accustomed to human death? He didn’t seem flustered at all.

“Judging by their clothes, I assumed they were the knights who came to get you, but I didn’t see your body among them. So when the next thing I heard was gunshots coming from the woods, it was normal for me to assume you were being chased.”

“If you’re bringing up what’s normal, it’s normal to run when you sense danger.”

“You sure are stupid, Elize. You know that?”

“Eh?”

“Had I done that, you wouldn’t have read my greatest masterpiece. After I spent a whole bloody night working on it, too.”

“...You’re the stupid one here...”

“H-Huh?”

“You... You really are a fool.”

Elizabeth’s voice was quivering.

“Whoa! Hey, Elize, what are you crying about!? Are you hurt!? Were you injured!?”

She wiped the overflowing tears from her eyes with the side of her finger, then meekly shook her head.

“I’m not... hurt... I’m fine...”

She wasn’t injured. Not badly. She was sad over the lives that had been lost. She was happy she had been saved. Sorrow and relief, regret and delight—there were more emotions than she could process. The corners of her eyes grew even warmer.

“Give me a break, would you?” Bastian said wearily, “Is my masterpiece so wonderful it moved you to tears before you even read it?”

“...Idiot.”

Elizabeth in his arms, Bastian raced through the forest as fast and as effortlessly as a horse galloping across an open plain.