Re-u-Knighted

The sky truly was intensely, beautifully blue. Dahlia felt a wonderful sense of freedom as she looked around the familiar streets with her newly crystal-clear vision, no longer reliant on her glasses. She could even better appreciate the subtle beauty of her outfit—the olive-green pants and lily-white sweater Gabriella had bought her.

Dahlia cast her mind back to earlier in the day. She had hopped on an omnibus first thing this morning and traveled to the temple, where she would have her vision restored and see if she could then do without her glasses.

The temple was in the northeast of the capital, close to the castle. It was a beautiful building made of white, crystalline stone that glittered in the sunlight. The architecture was something like a cross between a church and the Roman forum. Medical treatment didn’t take place in the temple proper, but in an adjacent building known as the Hall of Healing. Within the white, rectangular building reminiscent of a hospital, you were guided to different wings depending on the nature and severity of your injury or illness.

Regarding her donation, as the fee to restore her vision in both eyes would come to one gold, she was told a few silver coins would be appropriate. She felt very nervous, but the guide in the Hall of Healing warmly assured her that restoring her vision would be a simple procedure. She had a long wait of two and a half hours, but when the priest at last saw her, the whole procedure was completed within five minutes. She’d left the temple with her vision as clear and sharp as it had been when she was a child.

Rather than boarding the omnibus again, Dahlia walked into the city center, enjoying the scenery as she went. To celebrate the founding of her company, she’d decided to treat herself to a nice meal. The peace of her unremarkable life had been shattered over the past few days—first she’d lost her fiancé, then she’d stumbled across a blood-soaked knight, and finally she’d been practically bribed into founding her own company. Thus, she was determined that the rest of today would be pleasantly uneventful. She would enjoy a delicious meal, pick up an interesting new book on toolmaking and some sweet red wine, then head home. She’d take a long bath and spend the rest of the evening relaxing with her book. Tomorrow morning, she’d be ready to plunge back into her toolmaking with all cylinders firing. Something like that, anyway.

She wasn’t quite sure where to eat, but then she noticed a chic-looking restaurant on the main street that she remembered Gabriella mentioning yesterday. It was her first time entering a restaurant like this, so she felt a little nervous, but she gathered her courage and stepped over the threshold. A staff member greeted her cheerfully and showed her to a table out on the terrace. Each of the tables outside was shaded by a large beige parasol. Beneath it, out of the afternoon sun’s glare, the fresh, early summer breeze felt very pleasant.

Dahlia was handed a menu and was merrily perusing it when she noticed something peculiar. At a table a few meters away from hers, the diners were staring at something out on the street as if transfixed. One after another, people looked up from their plates and menus, every one of them gazing in the same direction. Wondering what was going on, Dahlia followed the stares, when suddenly her eyes met with a young man walking toward her.

“Oh!”

What were the chances? Not expecting him to recognize her, Dahlia averted her gaze so as not to appear rude. However, the dark-haired young man made a beeline for her. He looked just as strikingly beautiful as she remembered. The white silk taffeta shirt and black pants he wore today suited him well.

“I apologize for disturbing you, but might you be related to someone called Dali? Or...is that you?”

“Yes...it is.”

It was Volf, the knight she’d met in the forest. His golden eyes shone happily as he looked down at her.

“It really is you! I’m so glad. My vision was so fuzzy the other day, so I wasn’t sure.”

“Please forgive me. The forest isn’t safe for a woman on her own; that’s why I was dressed that way.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I took full advantage of your goodwill, after all. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me that day.”

Volf didn’t seem at all angry at her for hiding her gender. He even politely bowed as he thanked her.

“Did you know? Back in the forest, I mean.”

“I wasn’t sure. Your voice sounded just like a man’s, but while we were riding in the carriage, I noticed you had more of a woman’s scent.”

A woman’s scent? She had a mind to ask if that strengthening spell he used enhanced his sense of smell too, but she kept the question to herself for now.

“I was using a magical device to change my voice. I’m surprised you were able to recognize me.”

“It was the way you looked away when you saw me; it struck me as odd. There’s the color of your eyes too. I couldn’t see well the other day, but I remember that jade-green color. And you just had the same presence, so...I came over in the hope that it might just be you. Then I caught your scent, and I was almost sure.”

“You’ve...certainly got a good nose.”

She wasn’t wearing perfume and she bathed every day; how much scent could she have? Now she was feeling awfully self-conscious.

“I’m actually sort of relieved that you’re a woman.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, to be honest, I found you rather charming when we met the other day. I started wondering if my tastes had started leaning the other way.”

“What way?!” Dahlia exclaimed, making Volf chuckle.

“I’m more than happy to stand and chat, but would you mind if I joined you? Of course, if you’re meeting someone special here, we can do this another day.”

The gazes of all the women in the vicinity weren’t merely pricking at her; they were stabbing. It could be a pain if anyone got the idea that they were acquaintances, but with half the town looking at them already, perhaps it was too late for that. Dahlia gave up worrying and nodded.

“By all means, take a seat. I’m here alone.”

“Thanks. This is incredible luck. I was just on my way to the Merchants’ Guild.”

“Going shopping for the knights?”

“No, looking for you.”

“Me?”

“I was going to ask if they knew anyone who fit your description. I wanted to thank you for what you did. I didn’t feel right not compensating you for that potion, and I wanted to return the coat you lent me too. I had the captain write me a letter of introduction.”

That was a close call. She’d have been in for a stern warning about going into the forest alone and perhaps asked why she’d used a false name. Every woman in the guild would have wanted to pin her down and ask her about Volf too.

“Let me treat you to lunch, won’t you? And I’ll pay for that potion.”

“Um, well...”

“Ah, don’t worry, I’m not trying to hit on you. We made a promise, remember? That if I saw you, I’d at least buy you a drink. I just want to thank you properly and, if you don’t mind, I’d love to continue our talk about magical swords and tools.”

“Well, all right. That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Great!”

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been surprising for a knight to have such a strong sense of duty. Content to put his behavior down to that, Dahlia ordered the seafood spaghetti and chilled tomato soup. Volf selected herb-crusted grilled chicken, a ham and cheese platter, Vichyssoise soup, and two glasses of a reasonably expensive white wine.

“Are you happy with white? If not, I’ll order some red as well.”

“Yes, I like white too.”

Dahlia had always felt thankful for the rich food culture here in the royal capital. She’d heard that it was known in other kingdoms as the “City of Cuisine.” It seemed that many of this world’s most delicious foods could be found here. The staple grain here was wheat, and the cuisine resembled what Dahlia would have called Western-style in her previous world. There was nothing exactly like the Japanese food she remembered, but some dishes came close. Naturally, since ingredients like monster meats could be found in the markets here, there were many dishes the likes of which Dahlia had never seen in her former life.

Ever since she was little, she had looked forward to the two times in the month when she and her father would go out to eat. They always tried something new, and if it turned out disappointing, they simply made something good at home. Now that she thought about it, she’d rather lost interest in eating out since her father had passed away. She hadn’t gone looking for a new restaurant in a long, long time. Perhaps today would be a good opportunity to break that pattern. No one was holding her back anymore—she would hunt for some new restaurants and enjoy as much delicious food and fine drink as she wished.

“I didn’t realize how beautiful you were when we met in the forest.”

“Thank you for the opening compliment. That was my natural look, though. I’m wearing makeup today.”

Her father having been a baron, Dahlia was familiar with this custom among the nobility. When meeting a woman for the first time, young noblemen would typically pay her a compliment before beginning serious conversation. Another thing she remembered was that socializing with nobles very frequently gave her father a stomachache, to the point that he often took medicine.

“Are you actually a noblewoman, Miss Dali?”

“No, I’m a commoner. But my father was an honorary baron, so I’m familiar with the etiquette. It must be difficult coming up with compliments for women you barely know.”

“It can be. People get rather upset if you forget or if you don’t do it well,” Volf replied somewhat gloomily.

Dahlia could easily picture the scene. Volf was the very definition of an Adonis. He must have gotten caught up in dozens of misunderstandings. Just as Dahlia was about to steer the conversation in a different direction, their white wine arrived along with the ham and cheese platter.

“Let’s have a toast. Then we must try some of these cheeses.”

Volf poured two glasses of the white wine for them. It had the palest glimmer of gold.

“Well then, here’s to our reunion.”

“To our reunion.”

They touched their glasses together with a gentle clink. Dahlia remembered that in her previous world, you weren’t supposed to clink glasses when toasting with wine, but here, people always did. It was believed to banish evil or some such. The rule applied whether it was wine, ale, or any drink, really. People drinking alone would simply touch their glass to a bottle instead. Dahlia had seriously wondered at first whether it wasn’t just a ploy by the glassmakers to increase their sales, but it seemed people followed this custom even when using wooden cups or, in the case of nobility, silver goblets.

“How do you like it?”

“It’s very good.”

The wine was on the dry side, but not at all bitter, with a pleasantly grapey flavor. Dahlia liked it very much.

“I’m glad. Back in the forest, I got the impression you might prefer red.”

“Red’s my usual choice. I like sweet wine.”

“Let’s order a sweet red next, then.”

It was the middle of the day and they’d only just opened their first bottle; now he was talking about a second? That’s a bit hasty, isn’t it? That said, she’d already helped herself to a few mouthfuls of the cool, refreshing wine. It was very pleasant. The main dishes soon arrived, and the pair continued conversing as they ate.

“Are your eyes better now?”

“Completely; I can see perfectly now. I’m taking it easy for a few days just in case, though.”

“Are they making you write that apology letter?”

“No, no. It’s a proper rest. The captain let me off without a letter or anything.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I had the order searching high and low for me for two days, though, so I’ll need to buy everyone a few drinks when I get back on duty.”

“Are you sure we can’t split the bill today?”

“Not a chance. Don’t worry, they pay us Beast Hunters pretty well.”

As she listened, Dahlia popped a forkful of her seafood spaghetti into her mouth. The chopped seafood was well seasoned with salt and spices. It was an ideal dish for a hot summer’s day. The royal capital was located quite close to the ocean, so it enjoyed a steady supply of fresh seafood. However, while the varieties mostly resembled those Dahlia had known in her previous world, one major difference was in the sizes. It wasn’t uncommon for fishermen to pull up two-meter-long squid, fist-sized shrimps, and thirty-centimeter scallops. You had to make sure you knew what you were ordering.

Her tomato soup was a little sweeter than she’d expected. However, the seasoning of basil made it taste very fresh and pleasant. This was another dish well suited for the summer months.

Volf neatly sliced his herb-crusted chicken, taking sips of wine between bites. Judging from his satisfied expression, it must have been good.

“Help yourself to the cheese too,” said Volf, gesturing toward the platter.

“Thank you.”

As she looked down at the assortment, Dahlia noticed two kinds of cheeses that were curiously red in color. They were red even where they’d been sliced, so it wasn’t some kind of coating.

“I’ve never seen this red cheese before.”

“That one must be crimson cattle cheese.”

“Crimson cattle?”

“Yeah. They’re a species of monster, actually, but they’ve been domesticated in one of the neighboring kingdoms. Their coats are all red and white patches, and even their milk is pink. I heard their products are getting very popular lately.”

“I’ll try a little.”

As she bit in, she found it was harder than she’d expected. The flavor was like Mimolette, only sweeter and richer. This cheese would be a better match with red wine than white, she thought.

“If we’re ordering another wine, we’d better make it red for this cheese, huh?”

It seemed Volf had had exactly the same thought. Dahlia couldn’t help smiling.

“By the way,” he began, changing tack. “Your father wasn’t angry about you lending me his coat, was he?”

“No, don’t worry. My father passed away a while ago.”

“I’m so sorry. I never would have taken it if I’d known it was a keepsake.”

“It’s all right. I often wear it myself to keep the rain off. It would be a waste to just keep it hung up somewhere.”

“I’ll take it to a cleaner before I bring it back to you. Um, I didn’t realize the inside was lined with wyvern, not sand lizard skin.”

“I can take care of the cleaning at home, so you don’t need to worry about that. And the wyvern skin was just some scraps I stuck together and attached. My father was always getting his coat hooked on things and tearing it, so I put that skin in there just to reinforce it.”

“You used wyvern skin for that?”

Volf looked at her with his mouth slightly open in shock. The wyvern skin Dahlia had used was only offcuts that would have been thrown away otherwise. She’d cut it up into strips, mixed it through with a little blue slime powder, and used a mixture of adhesive and magic to attach it to the coat with a fixing spell. Using a single large piece of wyvern skin would have been far too expensive.

“Yes, but it was only some odd pieces that were going to be thrown away anyway. It didn’t all stick very well either; the bits I used from the back of the elbow are all falling off.”

“Do you happen to be in the clothing business, Miss Dali? Or wholesale, maybe?”

“Oh, excuse me, I still haven’t properly introduced myself. My name’s Dahlia Rossetti. I’m a novice magical toolmaker.”

“A magical toolmaker? Well, that explains why you know so much about them. And there I was talking about that waterproof cloth like I was some kind of expert... That’s embarrassing.”

The young man hid half his face in his palm. It was frankly impressive how he managed to look like a work of art no matter how he posed.

“It was good to hear from someone who actually uses that cloth. I’m the one who invented it, you see.”

“Really? You made that?”

“I did. The feedback you gave me was very useful; I’m going to try developing a new version that’s lighter and more breathable.”

“That’d be brilliant! Making camp would be so much easier... Gods above, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for letting me meet Dahlia Rossetti once again.”

“Stop that!” Dahlia exclaimed as Volf closed his eyes and solemnly put his hands together in prayer.

That was the second time she’d shouted at him today. The man in front of her grinned like a child who’d pulled off a bit of mischief. His appearance and his behavior were totally at odds with each other. She wasn’t sure what happened when she was with him; was she thrown off her stride or pulled into his? Perhaps the wine was just getting to her more than she realized.

“Bottle’s almost empty; I’ll order us another,” said Volf.

However, the restaurant had become more crowded since they’d arrived, and few of the waitstaff were coming near the terrace.

“Better go find someone inside.”

Before Dahlia could offer to go herself, Volf had already stood up. Was it the strict hierarchy within the knights that he was used to? Or was it entertaining women? She decided not to think too deeply about that one. She had delicious food, fine wine, and as engaging a conversation partner as she could ask for. The gentle breeze that wafted across the terrace felt ever so lovely.

“Dahlia?”

Unfortunately, Dahlia knew that voice. It belonged to the last man in the universe whom she wanted to meet, especially when she’d been in such a good mood. She peeked around to see him gaping at her in astonishment. Hoping to pretend she hadn’t noticed him, she quickly looked away again.

“Miss Dahlia!”

This voice belonged to someone else—a young woman, in fact—who came hurrying over in a way that reminded Dahlia of a little animal. With her wispy, pale, honey-colored locks, her doe eyes, and her small, slight stature, she was the kind of woman men felt compelled to protect. Her cherubic features, lightly accented with makeup, were already drawing the gaze of many of the restaurant’s patrons.

“I’m so sorry! I never meant to hurt you... I’ve been wanting to apologize to you this whole time...”

“Emilia, you’ve done nothing wrong! I’m the one to blame.”

In an instant, the whole restaurant was looking at them. Dahlia’s emotional discomfort index shot through the roof.

Could they not have simply ignored her and gone on their merry way? Was it really necessary to do this here? Now?

Dahlia looked at the tearful young woman in front of her and felt completely and utterly unmoved. She had no interest in what she had to say.

“Your engagement was ruined because of me... I’m so, so sorry!”

“I’ve nothing more to say.”

Emilia may have been apologizing, but there was something suspect about these theatrics. Why was she advertising their affairs for all these strangers to hear? Was she trying to open up Dahlia’s wounds and provoke her? It was hard to think otherwise.

“I’m sorry... Please, please forgive me...”

“Dahlia, don’t blame Emilia for this.”

All Dahlia had said was “I’ve nothing more to say.” Five words, that was all. She would love for him to tell her where exactly in that little sentence she had blamed Emilia. He could go and find himself some manuscript paper like they’d used in school and write her an extended essay, analyzing the matter in scientific detail if he liked.

It was bad enough having her own time wasted by these two, but she really wanted to avoid involving Volf. As she was wearily trying to figure out the quickest escape from this situation, she realized that the knight had returned. The stares of the curious onlookers, as well as those of Tobias and Emilia, had found a new target. It was no wonder. Volf didn’t merely steal glances wherever he went—his beauty took people’s breath away too. From behind, he whispered so that only Dahlia would hear.

“Do you still love him?”

“Not one bit,” she replied instantly, in as few words as necessary.

“My dear Miss Dahlia... If you have broken off your engagement, then I shall take that to mean you are single.”

Volf stood at Dahlia’s side and spoke in a tone she’d never heard from him before. His smile was like something from a charming painting, and all of a sudden his manner had become that of a fairy-tale prince from a play—a cheesy play at that.

“Praise be to the goddess of fortune! Many times have I entreated you to dine with me, yet, to my sorrow, not once have I had the pleasure. Now, on the day that we are reunited, I find you are free from your attachment. I am overjoyed!”

The peculiar speech was delivered in a voice as saccharine as sugary candies drowned in honey. Dahlia’s face tightened, a horrible chill running up her spine.

“Dahlia, who’s this?” Tobias asked with a frown.

Tobias had no right to be talking to Dahlia so casually and no right to demand the other man’s name in front of all these people. However, Volf answered before Dahlia could.

“I am Volfred Scalfarotto of the royal knights. To whom am I speaking?”

Dahlia’s breath caught in her throat. The other day, Volf had said he was the son of a minor noble—minor! There wasn’t a single person in this city who didn’t know the noble house of Scalfarotto. Twenty years ago, it was that family alone who had made possible the king’s Great Water Reform, having cracked the secret to the mass production of water crystals. For his achievement, Viscount Scalfarotto—as he had been at the time—had been made an earl. It had been such a historic feat that it had even been written about in the textbooks Dahlia had used in elementary school. Today, the Scalfarottos were responsible for nearly all aspects of the kingdom’s water infrastructure, from the steady supply of water crystals to purification in the sewer system. They were supremely gifted in water magic, more than anyone else in the capital, and it was rumored that the next Earl Scalfarotto would be made a marquis.

Both Tobias and Emilia froze on the spot.

“P-Please forgive my manners! I am Tobias Orlando of Orlando & Co.”

“And I-I am Emilia Tallini, a receptionist at Orlando & Co.”

“Is that so?”

That curt response was all Volf gave the pair before he turned away, not even deigning to look at them. Instead, he walked to Dahlia and elegantly offered his hand.

“Miss Dahlia, shall we have a change of scenery? I have just the place in mind, and there is so much I wish to discuss with you. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me?”

They were only about two-thirds of the way through their meal, but Dahlia was glad of the invitation to escape from this ridiculous soap opera. She didn’t hesitate to lay her hand upon that of the beautifully poised knight.

“Gladly.”

Volf’s hand felt very warm around hers.

Once they’d walked a little ways from the restaurant, Dahlia said, “You saved me back there. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I just hope what I said won’t cause any problems with your work or anything. If so, I can—”

“Of course not! It just took me by surprise. I didn’t know you had such a silver tongue.”

“It was all true, though. I invited you for a drink when you left me at the castle gates, but you brushed me off. I said I wanted to talk with you again too.”

When the other carriage had come up behind Dahlia, Volf had said something she hadn’t heard. She felt a rush of happiness knowing he’d been thinking the same as her at that moment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you over the rain. I should apologize for deceiving you and letting you think I was a man as well.”

“You don’t need to feel guilty about that. If I’d realized you were a woman, I’d never have gone and washed in the river, so my eyes would have gotten even worse. I wouldn’t have eaten all your food and drunk your wine either.”

Volf stopped in his tracks and looked at Dahlia with concern.

“I’m...not imposing on you, am I? Did you want to be alone today?”

“Not at all. It was just lunch; nothing special. Look, about the engagement—it was something our fathers arranged. Just before we were about to get married, my fiancé told me he’d found his ‘true love.’ That’s why we broke things off.”

“True love...?” Volf was unable to hide the disdain in his voice. “Can’t say I really understand.”

“Me neither,” Dahlia agreed with a brief shake of her head.

In this world, it wasn’t generally approved of for people to make decisions on the basis of “true love.”

“No wonder you don’t have feelings for him anymore.”

“None whatsoever.”

“At least it happened before you registered your marriage. That’s the only silver lining.”

Dahlia nodded with a genuine smile. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“To be honest, I feel like we were rudely interrupted back there. I’d love to talk with you a while longer, and I could do with another drink. If it’s all right with you, shall we go somewhere else?”

She didn’t know this man well, and he was a nobleman. Even though she was no longer engaged, her immediate thought was to turn him down. Just as she cast her eyes down at the ground, she suddenly remembered how badly she’d wanted to speak to him again after they’d first parted ways. The thought gave her a much-needed push, and she straightened herself, answering confidently.

“Definitely. I’d like something else to eat.”

As the pair set off again, they suddenly realized they were still holding hands and quickly let go.

Dahlia and Volf walked for a while, heading into the southern part of the Central District. On Volf’s recommendation, they entered an eatery for commoners that offered a broad range of drinks. Once they were inside the red-roofed building, Volf asked a staff member to show them to the private room farthest in the back.

“Now, let’s get ourselves a proper meal. What’ll you have to drink? They’ve got a good selection of red wines; I’ll get you anything you like. Well, I’d prefer you didn’t order a cask, though.”

The menu Dahlia was given was very thick indeed—more surprisingly, half of it was made up of various kinds of alcohol.

“A cask of wine, you said? Oh, there it is.”

Right at the back of the menu, Dahlia saw they offered casks of wine in three varieties—red, white, and rosé.

“I suppose they must be for parties,” she mused.

In this world, commoners didn’t put on fancy clothes and hold a ceremony when they got married. Instead, it was customary to take a short holiday after registering your marriage, during which you’d get together with friends and family, either at your house or a restaurant, and enjoy a good night of eating and drinking together. Of course, Dahlia had yet to experience that herself.

“I’ll have a pale ale then, please.”

“Right, then I’ll have a dark ale. How about food? Shall we order a few things to share?”

“Sounds good. That way, we can try a bit of everything.”

A waiter soon came to take their order, and they pointed out their choices on the menu.

“We’ll have one pale ale and one dark ale, two orders of seafood skewers, the pork and vegetable fritters, and the steamed chicken. Miss Dahlia?”

“I’d like the black pepper fries and grilled fava beans, please.”

As the waiter left, Volf readjusted himself in his seat.

“Would you mind if I use this? It’s an anti-eavesdropping device.”

From his pocket, he took out a small silver object shaped like a pyramid. These devices were a kind of magical tool often used by nobles and wealthy merchants.

“Feel free. I don’t think we’ll be sharing any secrets, though.”

“I don’t really use it for that—just when I want to chat freely with my friends from the order.”

The little silver pyramid began to glow pale blue in Volf’s hand.

“Before we get started, I want to make a request. In the very slim chance that I end up getting smashed, will you call me a carriage to take me back to the castle barracks?”

“I will. And if the same should happen to me, please put me on a carriage to the Green Tower in the West District.”

While there was no good reason to assume either of them would be getting blackout drunk today, it was better to be safe than sorry—the two of them weren’t close, after all. It would be no good calling a carriage if they didn’t know where to send each other. There was a taxi-like system of carriages that waited around the city’s busy shopping districts; it was the safest way to get home after a few too many.

“I’ve never blacked out from drinking before, though,” Volf commented. “How about you?”

“Not even once. I’ve never gotten very drunk at all.”

“What’s the most you’ve ever drunk?”

“I got through four bottles of red wine once and could still do my work perfectly.”

“Huh, I think that more than qualifies you as a kingsnake.”

In this world, “kingsnake” was code for someone who could hold a good deal of liquor. Kingsnakes were a species of monster which lived in the deserts; they could be lured out of hiding with alcohol and seemed to have a strong liking for it. Dahlia had heard that hunters would fill a large jar with drink, wait until the kingsnake had consumed it all and was completely drunk, then capture it.

“I’ve never really had much more than that. How about you?” Dahlia inquired.

“I’ve drunk white wine up to the carryover and been just fine.”

“Wow... That makes you a sea serpent.”

The “carryover” meant ten or more bottles, while “sea serpent” referred to someone a rank above a kingsnake. These people truly had livers of iron and basically never got drunk. Whether it was from physiological differences or the influence of magic, Dahlia wasn’t sure, but there were many people in this world upon whom alcohol had little effect. Dahlia herself could drink far more here than she could in her previous life, though by this world’s standards, she wasn’t particularly resilient against it.

“There’s a lot of us sea serpents in the knights.”

“Treating them to drinks is going to cost you. Let’s split the bill here, shall we?”

“Looks like I said too much. Pretend you never heard that. Maybe if you order that cask, we can split it.”

It seemed there would be no changing his mind; he was determined to treat her today. Dahlia realized she had better just be gracious and accept.

“Very well. Another toast, then,” she said, relenting. “Here’s to our reunion.”

“To our reunion!”

Their food and drinks had begun to arrive, and they toasted with their ale. Dahlia’s ice-cold pale ale was light in flavor. Nevertheless, it had a good, hoppy aroma and a pleasantly subtle bitterness, and it left a fresh, clean aftertaste. It wasn’t overly carbonated either, which she felt suited this ale’s flavor well.

Volf, on the other hand, had already emptied his first mug of dark ale, and what was left in the bottle wasn’t likely to last long.

“Now, d’you think we can relax and talk as equals? We won’t be heard if I use the anti-eavesdropper.”

“I’m not so sure... I mean, you are the son of an earl.”

“I may bear the Scalfarotto name, but I’m the youngest child. I don’t have any guards or anyone following me; they just leave me to it. My mother was no one of note, and the earl’s third wife at that. I was brought up in a separate house, and now I live in barracks. So you see, I’m no good with formality. Sure you can’t indulge me?”

There was the slightest hint of a tear in the man’s golden eyes. He looked as beautiful as ever, so why was Dahlia suddenly remembering a dog she’d kept in her previous life?

“All right, then. I’m a commoner, so I don’t know the nobility’s customs anyway. I’ll try not to be too formal with you. Now, that anti-eavesdropping device—how does it work?”

“According to one of the mages at the castle, it layers the sounds nearby so they cancel one another out. It doesn’t muffle every word, but the way it makes the sound randomly fade in and out means it’s impossible to follow what’s being said if you’re at all far away. You can’t get away with using it if the tables are too close together, though; it sounds unnatural.”

“I see. It can’t do anything to stop lipreading either, then.”

Rather than completely insulating the users in some invisible soundproof barrier, it seemed the device simply made conversations difficult to pick up.

“Wait, do you make things like this too?”

“Well, I’m not sure what ‘things like this’ would mean exactly. I make magical tools useful for daily life and sell them through the Merchants’ Guild. Dryers, waterproof cloth, those sorts of things. I think these anti-eavesdropping devices are more mages’ territory than magical toolmakers’.”

“Right, I see. I thought magical toolmakers made pretty much all of these things.”

They each took half of the dish of freshly grilled fava beans, snacking on them as they drank their ale. The beans were piping hot and a little fiddly to shell, but they were delightfully aromatic and cooked to the perfect softness, with a subtly sweet aftertaste. These beans, slightly charred on the outside and seasoned with a generous sprinkle of salt, were very much like those Dahlia had enjoyed in her previous life.

“I have to say, Sir Volf, you surprised me back there. It was like you became a completely different person.”

“I just thought it’d be a good way to cut the conversation short. That’s what I’m like when I actually try to act like a noble. Would you prefer I spoke that way?”

“Absolutely not. It made me want to head for the hills.”

“Good. It’d be exhausting having to keep that up. I just wish I had more ordinary looks to match my personality.”

It was just as well they couldn’t be heard; that comment seemed likely to bring down the wrath of every average-looking man in the kingdom. That said, it was true enough that beauty brought its own problems. Dahlia remembered an especially pretty friend she’d had in college who had often been bothered on account of their looks.

“I imagine you must get accosted quite often.”

“Three times today already, just in the time it took me to get from the barracks to that restaurant.”

“It must be tiring just to go outside.”

“If I’m on my own, I usually wear a hood and glasses. I made a point of standing out today, though, just in case...you might find me.”

“I’m sorry I’ve put you through so much trouble. I should have at least told you my name so you could find me through the Merchants’ Guild.”

“No, I’m sorry for being so pathetic. I don’t blame you at all. I just really wanted to speak to you again.” Volf reached up with one hand and scratched his head, looking bashful. “Anyway, enough about that. Let’s eat!”

“Yes, I’m looking forward to this.”

Volf handed Dahlia her portion of the seafood skewers, and she began to eat them one by one. They included large shrimps, small fish, scallops, and kraken. All were simply seasoned with salt. The plump, meaty shrimps were tender and juicy, and with each one being the size of Dahlia’s fist, they were very satisfying. The little fish, cooked whole, were somewhat similar to shishamo smelt but were bright red in color. The white flesh was sweet, the innards subtly bitter. There was something odd about the flavor that she couldn’t quite pin down. She wondered if these fish were a monster species. The scallops were large, and the grilling hadn’t at all diminished their delicious sweetness and tender texture.

The kraken was definitely the most unusual item. These marine monsters were regularly caught by fishermen and mercenaries using large boats, so they were available cheaply and in large quantities both as a source of food and raw materials. What was on Dahlia’s plate had been sliced up into bite-sized pieces and represented only a tiny piece of the animal, but the reddish-brown color on the surface reminded Dahlia of octopus. When she bit into it, however, she found the springy texture and aroma were just like squid. She’d heard that kraken could have a bit of an unpleasant smell, but Dahlia didn’t notice anything untoward—it had obviously been taken care of at some stage in the preparation or cooking.

“Have you ever found yourself wondering whether kraken is more like octopus or squid?” Dahlia asked.

“Yeah, it looks like octopus all right, but the flavor’s definitely closer to squid. Hard to tell when you see it on the plate like this, but when you think about how many portions you’d get out of a single kraken, it’s amazing, right?”

“Right. The ice mages must certainly have their work cut out around this time of year.”

Just one kraken could easily fill several storehouses, depending on the size. They were butchered into large sections out at sea but needed to be cut even smaller to be sold in the markets. Aside from midwinter, ice mages were kept busy all year round filling the storehouses with ice. Once frozen, the krakens were cut up into small, sellable pieces. Dahlia recalled many of the mages gifted in ice magic doing this as a fairly lucrative part-time job when she was in high school.

Next, Dahlia and Volf moved onto the fritters and black pepper fries, and they ordered more ale. This time, they both went for the ruby ale.

“It really is ruby red.”

“Yeah, they brew it with red barley.”

Dahlia found herself turning her glass around to admire the beautiful, deep color. She tried a sip, finding it very fruity and strongly carbonated. This would be ideal for enjoying with fried food. The ale and the chunky fries, seasoned with salt and black pepper, made for an absolutely irresistible combination. She’d have to start loosening her belt at this rate.

“So, do magical tools usually have just one enchantment on them?”

“That’s right. One enchantment per object is standard. Layering enchantments is usually the work of skilled mages and alchemists.”

“And how would a mage go about layering enchantments? Have you heard about that before?”

Volf took a knife and split the steamed chicken on the table into two equal halves. The innards had been removed, but it still made for quite a hearty dish.

“Well, I’m sure everyone has their own secrets, but I imagine they must use some technique to ‘seal in’ each enchantment. Whether that would be a special kind of spell or potion, I’m not sure.”

“I see. Sounds quite complicated. I remember you told me about those enchanted kitchen knives before, and I was thinking it’d be really useful if we could have some different enchantments on our swords, like the reinforcing and self-cleaning ones. Oh, and a weight-reducing one too.”

“Hm?”

Dahlia paused, staring down at the knife Volf had just used to slice the steamed chicken. With a hand to her forehead, she sat there thinking about the structure of a sword for a few moments.

“Do the swords you use have changeable guards and scabbards?”

“Yeah, we change them when we need to. Blades break now and then.”

“I was just thinking—if they’re changeable, then surely they all qualify as separate objects. I don’t know whether it’d be possible or not; it might have been tried already, but...if you disassembled one, enchanted the blade with a reinforcing spell, used water and air magic to put a self-cleaning spell on the guard, enchanted the scabbard with a weight-reducing spell, and then put it all together... I wonder whether that would work.”

“Wow...” Volf’s golden eyes went wide, and then he beamed. “That’d be fantastic! It’d make our work a whole lot easier. You could create the first totally man-made magical sword!”

Volf couldn’t disguise his excitement with that last comment, almost shouting it. He looked a little sheepish and quickly lowered his voice again. When Volf spoke about magical swords, there were moments when his expression became like a child’s. His eyes sparkled with curiosity and a spirit of adventure; they were fascinating to look at.

“Sorry, I went and got overexcited there...”

“I can see you’ve got a real passion for these swords.”

“Yeah, it’s my dream to wield a magical sword or some other enchanted weapon. I can’t do enchantments myself, but it’s a lot of fun just thinking about it.”

“I know the feeling. I love my magical tools, and coming up with new designs is one of my favorite parts.”

Dahlia realized this might be the one thing she and this young man had in common. She guessed he’d realized it too—his golden eyes were brimming with happiness.

“Do you have anywhere to be today?”

“No, no plans.”

“Great. I’m in the mood for a few more drinks.” Volf emptied his glass in one swig. “But first, let’s finish off this chicken.”

The two of them did just that, tucking into the steamed chicken as they continued their conversation. It had cooled by now, but the meat was beautifully moist and tender; it just fell apart in the mouth. It had no strong odor and was delicious on its own and with the spiced onion sauce.

“Time for another drink. I think I’ll have an akvavit with ice; how about you?”

“Akvavit? What’s that like?”

“It’s a spirit made from potatoes. It tastes slightly of caraway and some other herbs. Goes down smoothly.”

“Hmm, okay. One for me too then, please.”

Volf got up and ordered, and a waiter soon arrived with bottles, glasses, and a small bucket filled with ice.

“All right, a new drink calls for another toast. It’s a bit cliché, but here’s to a prosperous tomorrow.”

“To a prosperous tomorrow.”

With this oft-spoken wish, they made their third toast of the day. The akvavit, pleasantly chilled by the ice, was mild and smooth. The flavor was very pleasant; just as it slid down their throats, the grassy, herbal flavor of the caraway came through beautifully. However, this wasn’t a drink to be trifled with. Something this potent would soon go to one’s head.

“At the risk of being too forward, do you think it would be all right if I just called you Dahlia? I’d like for you to call me Volf too, without the ‘Sir.’”

“I wouldn’t mind you calling me that, but...I don’t think I’d feel right addressing you that way. I’m only a commoner.”

“I understand. I’ll get a scrivener to write up a certificate that says you can speak to me how you like without breaching etiquette.”

What kind of horrifying joke was that? For one thing, no one would use a scrivener for something as frivolous as that, and for another, he hadn’t quite grasped the problem with them being on such familiar terms. She shuddered to think what other women and nobles would think of it. It could affect her work.

“That’s not quite the issue.”

“I’m the youngest of my father’s four sons. My mother was a baron’s daughter. She’s gone now, and her family’s fallen from the nobility. I’m a Scalfarotto, but I can’t use water magic, let alone any of the other schools. I’m going to quit the nobility some day and make my own way. We can speak to each other as friends and just call it practice for my commoner life.”

The five major schools of magic included fire, water, air, earth, and healing. Having some talent in these schools was considered very important among the nobility.

“Couldn’t you marry into a noble family?”

“An earl’s son without any magical power is just an embarrassment. I could marry, but succession would be the problem. I’d have to adopt a boy or pass my estate on to a nephew or something. Most family lines come to an end if they lose their magical power. Besides, I think I’d just be treated as a trophy if I were to marry. And if I were to have a daughter, there’d be a lot of pressure on her. The family would want her to marry well and bring them more wealth and status.”

“What a world you live in...”

She discovered from Volf afterward that it wasn’t so uncommon for people to relinquish their noble status. Among high-ranking nobles, the eldest and most capable son would inherit the family title and the bulk of the wealth, with another son in reserve in case anything should happen to the first—in other words, an heir and a spare. Any other sons were either married off or became commoners. Daughters were sometimes married off to wealthier and higher-ranked husbands, but most married a noble of equal or lower rank, a wealthy merchant, or a government official. The system was designed in such a way that the total number of nobles never really changed. Dahlia’s father had been an honorary baron, but she was born and brought up as a commoner, so she knew almost nothing of the trappings of nobility.

“I suppose even nobles have it hard sometimes.”

“Some men find it easier just being a married woman’s lover. Our kingdom allows one man to have multiple wives and one woman to have multiple husbands, but not many women choose to have more than one spouse, unlike men. What you tend to see much more often are younger men in a casual relationship with married women.”

The marriage system in this world was one thing that had taken Dahlia by surprise. The registration process was very similar to what she’d known in her first life, but there were some major differences here. In this kingdom, marriages between one man and multiple women, one woman and multiple men, and people of the same gender were all recognized. That said, marriages between one man and one woman were by far the most common type among commoners. The next most common was one man with multiple wives, often seen in wealthy merchant households and such. There were several reasons why the nobility practiced both polygyny and polyandry; it often had to do with the preservation of rare magical abilities, succession, or the protection of land and assets. At first glance, the nobles seemed to lead charmed lives, but the reality was perhaps not so rosy.

“Sorry, I went a bit off-topic there.”

Volf smiled wryly as he filled both their glasses to the brim with akvavit.

“Say, Dahlia...if I brought you one of our swords, d’you think you could try enchanting it like you were saying? I’d pay you for your time and expenses, of course.”

It didn’t escape Dahlia’s notice that he’d casually dropped the “Miss” from her name. Yet, oddly enough, she felt quite at ease with it.

“I don’t mind if we speak informally as long as it’s just when we’re alone. As for the sword—if I mess up the enchantment, then it’ll be ruined, so it’s probably best we start with a cheap shortsword...don’t you think, Volf?”

For one moment, Volf’s golden eyes opened wide, then he gave Dahlia a smile so dazzling it seemed to radiate sunbeams.

“Yeah. Brilliant! I can’t wait to get started, magical toolmaker Dahlia.”

Once they’d emptied their bottles of akvavit, Dahlia and Volf left the eatery. Darkness was just beginning to descend, turning evening into night.

“I’ll call a carriage for you.”

“No, that’s all right. The walk home will sober me up.”

A leisurely walk on an early summer evening sounded like a splendid idea. Luckily, Dahlia was wearing her new pants today; they were very comfortable to walk in.

“Let me at least walk you home then. I won’t try to impose on you, don’t worry.”

“I live out west, near the boundary wall. It’s quite far. The castle’s in the other direction.”

“It’s dangerous for a woman on her own, even at this hour.”

Volf seemed to be genuinely worried about her. Dahlia opened her bag and rummaged around for something.

“I appreciate the concern, but look, I have this. It’s called a freezing bangle; it’s made for self-defense. I’ll be fine as long as I wear this.”

“Is that a magical tool made with ice magic?”

“That’s right. You can buy them in stores. They’re potent enough to freeze a person’s limbs. I’ve strengthened mine a little bit, so I could use it on two or three people if I needed to.”

Dahlia knew the magical toolmaker who’d made these freezing bangles, and she’d sought their permission before modifying hers. With each use, the bangle now could output as much freezing power as a large refrigerator. Where possible, Dahlia always made a point of finding out the maximum output and limits of any magical tool she obtained. She’d made it a rule ever since that day she’d accidentally made a flamethrower instead of a dryer, though she kept this detail to herself.

“Huh. So you can freeze them in place and then make your escape?”

“I’d go and call the guards on them or find someone in the neighborhood to help. It takes a while for the ice to melt. By the way, if you hit the frozen areas, you can easily break them. I’ve heard of some people getting caught attacking women, and...well, people soon made sure they’d never do it again!” Dahlia explained cheerfully.

“Whoa...”

Volf’s imagination seemed to run away with him for a few moments before he quickly shook his head. She had a feeling he was thinking back on that incident with the coat last spring, so she couldn’t help grinning.

Generally speaking, the royal capital was very safe. Even so, it was still dangerous for women to walk the streets alone at night, so almost all would travel by carriage after dark. Those who chose not to were sure to equip themselves with some form of self-defense, such as freezing bangles or defensive magic. She’d heard of some fools trying to attack a seemingly unarmed female mage, only to end up nearly roasted alive. After receiving basic treatment for any injuries, criminals like muggers and molesters were generally sentenced to manual labor, sent down to the mines, or forced out into the wilderness to cultivate the land. They would often work in these harsh conditions for the rest of their lives. These criminals were an important part of the kingdom’s workforce, Dahlia had heard.

“What if I said I just wanted to talk with you a little longer? Then could I walk you back?”

“Of course. I don’t mind, but it’s a big detour for you, isn’t it?”

“If I went back to the castle now, I’d end up doing some exercise anyway. Don’t want to get rusty during this break.”

The pair chatted as they walked side by side, the long road bathed in crimson light as the sun slowly dipped beneath the horizon. With the magical streetlamps not yet lit, the faces of the people passing were indistinct in the dusky light.

“I imagine the kind of training you do in the Order of Beast Hunters must be very tough.”

“It’s not so bad. We run a lot, tone our muscles with sit-ups and push-ups and all that, and spar with swords and spears. Now and then, the mages come along and send us all flying.”

“Sorry, what was that last bit?”

Running and sparring sounded perfectly standard, but what on earth would they be battered by mages for?

“We often deal with monsters that can breathe fire and whip up winds, so it’s practice for that. We get several mages to attack us at once in big blasts and work on avoiding the attacks, or standing up to them if we can. Yeah, you often get a couple of guys sent to the sick bay, but it’s good to have a chance to practice before the real thing.”

“Right, I suppose that makes sense. So tell me, what’s the biggest monster you’ve ever had to fight?”

“It’s got to be the wyvern. Anything with wings is a real pain to deal with. If they fly off, they’re pretty much impossible to chase down.”

“Aren’t the biggest monsters the most difficult?”

“Unless it’s a real behemoth, then size doesn’t make too much of a difference. Just makes them easier to hit, if anything.”

Huh? Was it just her imagination, or was he talking about terrifying monsters like they were good target practice? And exactly how big did a monster have to be to qualify as a behemoth? She was curious, yet she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know.

“Oh, speaking of difficult monsters, I hate the ones with lots of legs, like giant centipedes. You never know how they’re gonna move or where they’ll come at you from.”

“I don’t even want to see something like that.”

“At least the likes of cyclops have only got two arms and two legs; if they come chasing after you, you just get out of the way. They’re not really that hard to handle.”

Volf made it sound so simple, but no normal human could expect to win that game of tag. The conversation only confirmed in Dahlia’s mind that the Beast Hunters’ legendary reputation was well deserved.

“You bought me all that food and drink today, so let’s forget about the potion, shall we? It sounds like you Beast Hunters have a hard enough life as it is.”

“I’m not forgetting about anything. On the contrary, you can shake me down for all the coin you like if you’ll make that enchanted sword for me.”

“I would never!”

She’d shouted at him again. How many times was that today? She’d lost count, and since it wasn’t likely to be the last time, she gave up keeping tally.

Nearly an hour of lively conversation followed before they finally stood in front of the tower Dahlia called home. By now, the sky had darkened enough that the pale crescent of the moon stood out sharply against the blue.

“So, this is your home. I’ve often noticed it in the distance when we’ve set off for missions from the west gate. I thought maybe a mage might live here, but no, it’s you.”

Volf blinked up at the tower in surprise.

“Yes, people call it the Green Tower.”

“Seems just right for a magical toolmaker, somehow.”

“I think so too. A long time ago, the capital’s outer wall used to stand here. When they knocked it down, my grandfather took some of the stone and used it to build this tower.”

“Was it some sort of experiment?”

“No, my grandfather produced magical lanterns, you see. He was dealing with a lot of fire crystals and needed a place in town to safely research them.”

“Right. If you’re making things with fire crystals, I guess a wooden building would be pretty risky.”

“Exactly. He didn’t want to risk starting a fire.”

In truth, starting a fire wasn’t the only concern. With minimal processing, a few fire crystals could turn into the equivalent of a bomb. After all, a simple miscalculation had turned Dahlia’s prototype dryer into a flamethrower. However, she had learned from her father that magical tools were rarely made into weapons.

The reason for that was the mages. The magical power of mages came in many varieties and strengths. Among water magic users, for instance, some could only fill a bathtub, some could fill a pool, some could create ice, and some could even combine their water magic with air magic to whip up a blizzard. In a sense, powerful mages were living weapons. Dahlia remembered an extraordinary display given by a fire mage once during a royal parade—a towering inferno of flame had shot up into the sky, taking the shape of an enormous dragon spreading its wings. Dahlia was just extremely thankful that she hadn’t been reborn into this kingdom during wartime.

“Well, here we are.”

Volf came to a halt in front of the tower’s gates. He handed her a leather pouch he’d been carrying. Inside were ten gilt silver coins—the cost of a potion was only five.

“This is too much.”

“No, that includes the cost of the meal and the carriage ride. Honestly, you saved my life that day, so please take it. I’ll get a lecture from the captain otherwise.”

“Very well, if you insist.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Would it be okay if I came by tomorrow to return your coat?”

“Yes, no problem.”

“Does late morning work? Ah, and if you happen to have time—I’m going to go visit a magical tool shop in the North District; would you like to come with me?”

The North District was where establishments that catered to the nobility plied their trade. She’d been to magical tool shops there only a handful of times with her father. She hadn’t been once this year. There might be new magical tools on sale that she’d never seen before—the mere thought sent her heart aflutter.

“Absolutely, I’d love to go with you,” she answered without any hesitation. “I’ll expect you tomorrow morning.”

“Great! See you in the morning, then.”

Volf bowed and turned to walk back the way he’d come.

“It’s, um, a little early, but...goodnight! Pleasant dreams.”

It was an everyday phrase in this kingdom, said to family and friends before they went to bed. Hearing it from Dahlia seemed to catch the knight off guard—the smile he gave her as he turned around was slightly bashful.

“Goodnight, Dahlia. Pleasant dreams.”