Chapter One: The Prince, the Fall Sky, and the Chance Meeting

The season of plentiful rain, animals fattening up for the winter, and giving thanks for the bounties of nature had come to Gracis. The castle town was busy with people preparing for the harvest festival, which was two weeks away. Everyone worked with smiles on their faces—and not only because they looked forward to the festival. The Gracis Kingdom, situated on the continent of Grandinal, had been known to the neighboring countries as the Kingdom in Woe. Despite being the most powerful country on the continent, its king had been a mere puppet of the nobility and officials led by the corrupt minister Barbosse, who had oppressed the people and jeopardized the entire nation.

However, all of this was already a thing of the past. At the end of this year’s spring, the Atrad empire had attempted to invade Gracis. The kingdom had sent a military expedition to meet the enemy, but it had been annihilated by one of the empire’s schemes. The imperial army, a hundred thousand strong, had surrounded the Gracis border fort where a mere five thousand soldiers were stationed. But just as the kingdom’s loss seemed inevitable, that same army of twenty thousand that had supposedly been annihilated arrived, led by the seventh and youngest prince of Gracis. They managed to capture the enemy supreme commander and put an end to the border conflict once and for all.

But that was not the end of the prince’s achievements. After he returned to the capital, he had exposed the misdeeds of the wicked minister who had been taking advantage of his position to line his own pockets. In doing so, the so-called “Tragedy of the Royal Family”—an event where the previous king and the current king’s two older brothers had died from illness—had been revealed to be an assassination plot planned by the minister, shocking the populace. The prince had brought with him irrefutable evidence of the minister’s guilt. But when the minister realized he had been backed into a corner, he’d taken the prince hostage and attempted to flee the country. While on the run, the minister had been attacked by a violent madman and ultimately lost his life. With the minister gone, all those who had supported his evil deeds for their own profit had been forced to face the full force of the law, with the help of evidence that the prince had collected on his own.

The country was changing for the better. The people had not only the festival to look forward to, but also the bright future that lay in store after. That was what was on everyone’s minds as they worked hard to prepare for the festival, unable to keep their joy from showing.

All who knew of the prince would say the same thing: it was all thanks to the Seventh Prince. As long as Prince Herscherik was there for them, they would be safe.

A vast, cloudless autumn sky could be seen through the window. A young boy was distantly observing the beautiful sight. His light blonde hair, which looked as if it was spun from rays of spring sunshine, was cut just short enough to hide his ears. On his left ear he wore a copper-colored ear cuff which glistened in the light from the window. His androgynous, even slightly girlish face featured green eyes reminiscent of bright emeralds.

The young child was sitting on a sofa, resting his head on his desk with both arms thrown in front of him. The top of the desk felt cool on his cheek, and he gazed out through the window while stifling a yawn. Had anyone actually seen him act so ill-mannered they would have admonished him on the spot, but fortunately—or unfortunately—he was all alone in the room.

“Ah, what beautiful weather...” he muttered to himself.

He was the Seventh Prince of Gracis, Herscherik Gracis. Still only the tender age of seven, he was the very prince responsible for ending the recent conflict between Gracis and Atrad. The people on the streets secretly referred to him as the “Prince of Light” or even the “Hero of Light,” but upon hearing about this from his men of service, his reaction had been, “Are they really calling me that? You can’t be serious... I’m too embarrassed to go anywhere now...” while burying his face in his hand. Of course, the very next day he had snuck out on one of his usual trips to the castle town.

Herscherik was currently cooped up in his study, and his surroundings could not even charitably be described as “orderly.” With the exception of the space where he’d rested his head, he was surrounded by paper stacks of various heights, and the wood beneath his inkwell was stained with blotches of ink. His porcelain cup, hiding among the mountains of paperwork, was already empty, indicating just how long he had been imprisoned in the room.

Herscherik sighed repeatedly as he looked up at the clear, blue sky.

Oh, the weather really is beautiful... I bet it would feel great to go out for a walk on a day like this.

With the piles of paperwork in the corner of his eye, he vacantly gazed up at the sky while his thoughts drifted to recent events. It was an attempt to escape reality.

Almost three months had passed since the death of the minister who had controlled the kingdom from the shadows, Marquis Volf Barbosse. The post-war arrangements with Atrad had mostly calmed down for now, and those in Barbosse’s faction and others who had supported him were being sentenced in rapid succession. This process had taken some time, as they had all been given a thorough trial regardless of the extent of their crimes, but that too was now mostly over.

But now a new problem had arisen: with many nobles and officials having been dismissed, suspended, or confined to their homes as a result of their crimes, there were now enormous gaps in the government’s staff list, as though it had been chewed up by worms. The king served as head of state, but the bulk of the day-to-day work had always been to nobles, officials, knights, and constables. In order to save the country, they had been forced to cut away all the rot—and Herscherik was prepared to have to spend a significant amount of time to help the country recover.

His prediction turned out to be incorrect, although better than he anticipated. His father, who until now had been forced to walk a dangerous tightrope in his negotiations with the minister, was now able to actually run the government in a manner that would have surprised anyone who once called him a fool. Despite his gentle appearance, he was tremendously capable—but perhaps that was only to be expected of someone who had made it as far as Solye had in the shadow of the sly and wicked minister without ever succumbing to his schemes. Solye had left Herscherik stunned by assembling all the staff needed to fill the empty posts in as little as two weeks.

“These are just provisional measures, mind you. After things have calmed down a bit, we will need to reevaluate all of our choices. Even if an individual is capable on paper, it’s difficult to tell if they’re really fit for a position of leadership. This is just a temporary arrangement to prevent unnecessary confusion. Besides, there are still many people who are far too concerned about their social standing...” Solye said as he sighed with a troubled look on his face.

Not everyone who worked at the castle was a noble. A not insignificant number of officials were commoners who had graduated from the academy, and almost all soldiers were commoners. Some nobles did not take kindly to commoners making their way too high up the ranks. Conversely, many commoners considered nobles to be nothing but intolerable snobs. Such prejudice made it difficult for people of varying social class to work together, which proved to be a hindrance.

Herscherik found all of this completely ridiculous.

Elitism meets inferiority complexes, I guess...

Everyone short of saints had thoughts like these—it was only natural. But Herscherik did not look favorably upon those who let those thoughts hold them back to the point of neglecting their own duties.

Herscherik thought back to his past—to before he was even born.

In his past life, he had been Ryoko Hayakawa, a soon-to-be thirty-five otaku spinster from a country called Japan who had worked at the headquarters of a certain publicly traded company. Being a large company, it had employed a large number of people from all kinds of backgrounds and with all kinds of values. There were elitist employees from prestigious universities, those who had merely graduated from high school or a trade school and worked their way up, as well as people poached from rival companies. There were also different categories of employees, working in the sales department, the systems department, the administrative department, and so on; beyond that, there were apparently also various cliques that would quarrel on occasion.

Incidentally, Ryoko was a junior college graduate who, perhaps because of being assigned to the general affairs department, had never gotten involved in drama like that. Her natural disposition had certainly helped, but as various circumstances at the company had forced her to slave away at her work, she had internally been screaming, “If you have time to do something this pointless, just do your goddamn job instead! In fact, if work is that slow for you, let me switch places!”

Having spent all her time on work from the moment she joined the company, she never ended up in any of the cliques, instead freely bothering any department when something was unclear about her work and contacting branch offices without hesitation like a veteran. For someone who had so recently joined the company, she was familiar to a surprisingly large number of employees.

Once her overwhelming work finally came to an end, her meddling and caring nature caused her to approach everyone equally without regard for departments and cliques—or rather, without even knowing about their existence—and as a result, everyone from managers to new hires came to rely on her.

As a simple employee who disliked groups, Ryoko had managed to stay out of trouble by telling herself none of it concerned her. Once she’d been reborn as Herscherik, though, things weren’t quite as easy. While Herscherik didn’t quite have it in him to play best friends with everyone, he had everything to lose by allowing capable people to be crushed or lose their way like Barbosse had. Some nobles were competent because of their upbringing, but the opposite was also true—some were satisfied with their privilege and made no effort to prove themselves.

We need to discard our old ways of thinking...

Social standing had no bearing on skill, and Herscherik believed that hard work should always be rewarded. The circumstances of your birth were only the starting point; you determined the rest of your life’s path yourself.

Well, this is one thing that won’t be solved overnight. I’ll just have to be patient, Herscherik concluded to himself, as he sat up straight and moved his head left and right to relieve his stiff shoulders. First I need to deal with what’s in front of me...but...

Herscherik let out yet another deep sigh at the sight of the mountains of paperwork.

“There’s just no end to it...”

But it was no wonder that Herscherik was complaining. In front of him was thirty whole years’ worth of paperwork—everything that Barbosse had a hand in as regent after Solye’s coronation as a young child, and later as minister after Solye came of age... Or more specifically, a very small part of it.

It just keeps on coming and coming...

So Herscherik had intentionally changed his focus to get his mind off the massive amount of paperwork—not that doing so would make the paperwork disappear.

After Barbosse’s death, his crimes and those of his followers had finally come to light. Thanks to Herscherik having collected all the evidence in advance, they had everything they needed to sentence them. However, unlike in fiction where the villains were punished and everyone lives happily ever after, reality wasn’t so simple. The very fact that there was so much corruption meant that government policies had never been properly enacted. For example, if funds had been allocated for flood control in a given area—what happened if those funds were embezzled? If construction never happened, or they cut corners, the next flood could result in tremendous damage and death.

Thus everything needed to be looked over as quickly as possible, but the government of Gracis was currently in a state of confusion, with other nations ready to seize any opportunities that presented themselves while the kingdom was weakened. Herscherik’s father and brothers were all busy putting the government back in order and had no time to deal with thirty years’ worth of paperwork.

Herscherik had then considered putting the relevant departments to work, but he reconsidered upon realizing that few people would voluntarily submit accurate reports on their own failings. They might even cover it up in fear of punishment. Besides, every department already had its hands full due to the recent restructuring.

Still, someone had to do it. Herscherik hadn’t even started attending the academy yet, but he had accidentally showcased his past-life office worker skills during the previous battle. As a result, he now found himself sifting through endless amounts of decades-old documents while investigating anything that looked out of place.

In spite of all his grumbling, it was not as though he was being forced to do this—he truly did want to. In between his royal studies, he had always spent any spare time he had sorting through paperwork.

As voluntary as it was, though, he could still feel the stress and fatigue piling up. The seemingly endless work was more than enough to wear down his concentration and make him start looking for an escape from reality. Not to mention that thirty years was just an estimate—depending on the results of his investigation, he might end up having to go even further back.

It goes without saying, I guess, but not having a computer makes this so much harder...

In Herscherik’s previous life, he’d worked at a large company where all data had been managed by computers. Any information could be found with a simple search and then printed if need be. In this world, magic existed, but computers did not. The paper documents were recorded with magical items and sorted by date, but he still needed to find where the documents were actually stored.

Had everything been perfectly organized there wouldn’t have been much of an issue; however, depending on the department, documents hadn’t been recorded properly or sorted correctly and were sometimes missing completely—either by accident or deliberately. As a certified workaholic, the state of the organization here was enough to drive Herscherik crazy.

Living in this foreign world, Herscherik found himself with a renewed appreciation for the tools of an advanced civilization.

“What is this tense sensation in the pit of my stomach? I remember feeling it more times than I could count in the past...”

Ryoko had never been able to turn down anyone who asked her for help, a disposition that had stuck with her even after being reincarnated. The downfall was that she had just barely enough talent to actually pull it off if she just pushed herself hard enough, so she’d always had a habit of taking on more work than was healthy.

Even though she was just reaping what she’d sowed, the stress would always go straight to her stomach. For a while, she’d had a serious antacid habit. To relieve stress, she would go to solo karaoke, play games, and the like—but in a world without such forms of entertainment, there were limited options for stress relief.

Well, at least I’m done with my work for today...

Herscherik had no studies nor practice today, so he’d been glaring at the stacks of paperwork since morning. As a result of his hard work, all documents he had been planning on going through were now signed and stamped.

Herscherik remembered how his father and siblings had warned him time and time again not to work himself too hard. His overprotective men of service were also not around to force him to stop.

He took his antique silver pocket watch out of his inside pocket and checked the time. It was almost three o’clock in the afternoon.

“’Kay, I know what I’m doing now.”

Herscherik grinned as he leapt off his sofa.

At just past three o’clock, a careful knock could be heard from the door. The owner of the room did not respond, even after a second knock. After giving up any hope of a response, the person simply entered the room. It was a man with striking deep-ruby eyes and black hair, clad in a well-tailored butler’s suit. His name was Schwarz Zweig. Also called Kuro by his master, he was Herscherik’s butler of service.

Having been with Herscherik since his master was only four years old, he did not serve the country of Gracis—only Herscherik himself. Due to his extraordinary skills and the way he always followed his master like a shadow, people would quietly refer to him as the “Shadow-Fanged Butler.”

This retainer was currently holding his young master’s tea service, along with cookies to go with the tea. The master himself was nowhere to be found. On his desk was a note informing anyone who read it of his plans to go on an outing along with a list of documents he needed. Kuro understood the situation in an instant.

“He ran away, huh?” he muttered as a hint of exhaustion appeared on his chiseled, shadowy face.

The castle town was bustling with people merrily preparing for the coming harvest festival. Weaving its way through the crowds was a small figure wearing a hooded poncho. Whenever one of the townspeople spotted the figure, they would wave, and the figure would respond in kind. The figure belonged to none other than Herscherik, who had escaped the castle and made his way into town.

As he had used his trusty secret passage rather than the main gate, there had been no one to scold him, and as a result he was in a great mood. He felt like all his stress had fled from his body and dispersed into the air as he enjoyed his first secret trip to town in quite a while.

On a day like this, there’s nothing like a nice walk!

Herscherik trotted along in high spirits while giving those around him a radiant, infectious smile. Stress relief wasn’t the only reason for his good mood, though. Before the battle with the empire, he had lied about his identity as a member of the royal family while spending time with the people of the castle town, but on the day of the departure ceremony his deception had been revealed. Herscherik had been prepared to never again interact with the townspeople like he had before—but contrary to his expectations, they did not fault him for lying about his identity. Instead they accepted him—a member of the very royal family that, in a way, was the root of their suffering—just as they had before.

Herscherik was so happy about this that he was on the verge of tears. His small excursions to the castle town were worth the world to him. And as his life was no longer in danger, his overprotective butler had less objection to his trips.

A different problem had arisen now—the source of which was his very own men of service who had made themselves well-known through their exploits during the battle with the empire.

After the battle, his men had continued to accompany and protect him on his excursions—though they now functioned less as his bodyguards and more as chaperones, preventing him from getting into too much trouble.

When Herscherik had managed to make time for it after returning from the expedition, he had taken his men to visit the castle town. The moment he had taken his first step outside the castle, though, he had been surrounded by townspeople—particularly women—and had been unable to go any further. They had formed a human wall around him, like the idol fans Herscherik remembered from his previous life.

So that’s what idols have to go through... Herscherik thought back to that day with an awkward smile.

His men of service were young, talented, and good-looking, and they all had promising futures ahead of them. On top of that, they were all single, so no wonder the women of the town would not leave them alone—even if not all of them were serious about it. They still seized the opportunity as the men accompanied Herscherik for his town visits and swarmed them, involving Herscherik himself in the process and ruining what should have been a pleasant excursion.

That said, it did not feel right to simply disregard the earnest feelings of all of those women, and his men could hardly disrespect them in front of their master. The butler put up layers upon layers of facades as he entertained the ladies with a charming smile; the knight smiled awkwardly while trying to calm them down; the Spellcaster, on the other hand, was distrustful of all people regardless of gender, and started acting like a cornered cat upon being surrounded. Some women just didn’t get the hint, though; they persisted in their advances, and Herscherik had to soothe their victim before he went berserk. As a result, Shiro came to spend most of his time cooped up in the castle, which troubled Herscherik in and of itself.

Thus, having learned his lesson after bringing his men the first time around, Herscherik would now instead sneak out alone whenever his men weren’t watching. His poncho, which hid his face, also helped convey to the townspeople that he didn’t want unnecessary attention. However, his men—especially Kuro—would still frown at the mention of him going alone. Every time he returned home from an excursion, he would receive a lecture from his butler; still, Herscherik did not stop.

I left some work behind for him today, so he won’t be able to chase after me too quickly! Herscherik chuckled internally. Had Kuro been able to hear his thoughts, a smack to his head would have been the least of Herscherik’s worries.

Herscherik continued strolling down the castle town. In the middle of his walk he came across the wife of the candy store owner, who gave him a cookie that Herscherik stuffed into his mouth while continuing toward his usual destination.

At his destination, he found a healthily tanned woman who was just about to lift a box filled with fruit.

“Hello, Louise!” he said from behind, as the woman in question turned around and greeted him with a smile.

“Oh my, Ryoko! Welcome!”

Herscherik smiled at being called Ryoko. Even after the townspeople had learned of his true identity, they had continued to refer to him the same way as always—“Ryoko,” “young man,” “young master,” and so on. That made Herscherik happy. It felt like proof that he hadn’t lost his place here.

Herscherik turned his gaze from Louise and toward the inside of the fruit shop. A baby was sleeping comfortably in a basket next to some boxes of fruit.

“Hello, Risch.” Herscherik greeted the baby, careful not to wake her up.

The baby was the firstborn daughter of the couple who ran the fruit shop. Herscherik had by chance ended up being present for the childbirth, and on the parents’ request the newborn girl had been named after Herscherik.

Herscherik thought back to when his niece from his previous life had been a baby, a gentle smile surfacing on his lips. He poked the baby’s cheek with his index finger, and it turned out to be even softer than he had expected; his grin widened further.

Babies sure are cute...

Herscherik watched the small child almost obsessively, even though all she did was sleep. He did not notice the people around him smiling as they observed the pair. Just when it looked as though Herscherik would watch the baby until sunset, Louise spoke to him.

“Ryoko, are you alone today too?”

Herscherik poked the baby’s cheek once more before turning toward Louise.

“Yes, I had some spare time so I decided to stop by.”

Louise let out a small sigh in response.

“Don’t blame me if you get in trouble with them again.”

Herscherik averted his gaze and tried to laugh it off. This was not his first time visiting the town alone, and each time he did, either his butler or his knight would come searching for him and give him an earful.

He could tolerate the knight, who seemed to have partly given up when it came to Herscherik’s excursions. His overprotective butler, though, only grew fiercer each time, and his lectures would grow longer and longer. The knight would try to intervene, only to have the butler turn his attention to him instead, and in the end he would end up sitting on the floor receiving a lecture alongside Herscherik.

Herscherik’s Spellcaster, meanwhile, was wholly uninterested in the entire process.

“By the way, is your husband back yet?” Herscherik asked to change the subject. He had known Louise’s husband, the fruit shop’s taciturn, bear-like owner, just as long as Louise herself.

The husband had gone off to a remote town on a delivery and was supposed to return soon. Though as expressionless as ever, to Herscherik he had seemed worried about leaving his wife and child behind, and that had been at the back of his mind every time he visited the castle town.

“He came home before noon today. Now that you mention it, he opened his mouth for once earlier today, only to say that he had something to ask you.”

“Me?” Herscherik gave a confused look in response.

What could it be? Herscherik tried to think of what Louise’s husband could possibly want to ask him, but came up with nothing.

“Oh, welcome home, honey. Ryoko is here,” Louise said suddenly, interrupting Herscherik’s thoughts.

Herscherik turned around to find a large man approaching them, easily carrying two wooden crates that were large enough to fit three Herscheriks each.

“Welcome back, owner!” Herscherik said as he ran over to the man, but he stopped in his tracks upon noticing a pair behind him clad in traveler’s garb.

One was a tall man with azure eyes reminiscent of the deep sea. His dark blue hair was cut short everywhere with the exception of the nape of his neck, where he had a long ponytail. A red feather decorated the string tying his hair back, swaying in the wind. He wore a slightly worn overcoat and seemed to be carrying something on his back, as it seemed unusually large.

The other person was a woman. She wore a hooded cloak, and it was difficult to make out her face, but her shoulders were narrow, and her body was curved in all the expected places, making it easy to guess her gender. The deep red color of her hair definitely grabbed Herscherik’s attention.

Herscherik had a number of redheads around him, including his crown prince brother and his knight of service. They both had light red hair, and the crown prince Marx’s hair in particular looked as if someone had melted down the finest polished rubies. This woman’s hair, however, was different. It was a darker red, best described as a deep crimson.

The woman slowly removed her hood and revealed her face. Herscherik guessed that she was in her twenties. Her downturned dark eyes smiled gently, giving her the impression of a quiet woman. Her eyes met Herscherik’s, and she greeted him with a graceful bow. Herscherik returned her greeting with a quick bow of his own before returning his gaze to the owner of the fruit shop.

“Who are these two?” Herscherik asked the owner. This was all giving him a bad feeling.

The owner put the wooden boxes down on the ground and hesitated for a moment before opening and closing his mouth a number of times, seemingly having trouble finding the right words. He then slowly crouched down until he was on the same eye level as Herscherik.

“Prince... I have something to ask you,” the usually silent owner spoke in a voice so low only Herscherik could hear him. Herscherik’s expression changed upon hearing him.

“I take it it’s something that would be difficult to discuss here?”

The owner nodded in response, and Herscherik exhaled heavily.

He had always referred to Herscherik as Ryoko, but just now he had called him “Prince.” Herscherik understood that this meant that it was a matter that could only be solved using his position as a member of the royal family.

“Very well,” Herscherik agreed without asking further, as he threw the seemingly worried Louise a bright smile. “Louise, I need to borrow your husband for a little bit. Oh, if someone comes by to get me, tell him I went to look at butterflies. He’ll understand.”

Louise nodded in response, while Herscherik started walking with the three others in tow. He glanced back every now and then to make sure the others were keeping up as he quietly sighed to himself.

It seems my second life won’t be calming down anytime soon, he thought to himself as he walked on.