CHAPTER ONE

“Brother! Over here!”

Myuri’s voice cut through the clamor of the bustling, packed harbor, and Col just barely managed to spot her waving at him from the other side of the crowd. When he finally reached her after dodging carts almost overflowing with live fish and stepping over lines of strung-up chickens, she had already begun negotiating with the merchants.

“We need 180 yards of linen and 120 yards of Saava wool. What about Jord weave? Can you get 90 yards of that?”

Myuri stood face to face with three pudgy, middle-aged merchants who each had different kinds of fabric draped over their arms.

She carefully checked their wares one by one and called out order after order.

“I also want 120 yards of unprocessed white wool while we’re at it…and could you throw in 60 yards of hemp, too?”

The merchants’ eyes widened when she said that and they quickly began to voice their objections. Despite the much older, much heavier men looming over her, Myuri showed no sign of fear.

“What? Sheesh, fine. I’ll buy the red- and purple-dyed fabrics somewhere else then,” she said, crumpling the contract in her hands into a ball. “C’mon, Brother. Let’s head to the next place.”

She then grabbed Col’s hand and briskly walked off. The dumbfounded merchants briefly turned their attention toward Col. He was currently dressed in the trader outfit he used for walking around town, so he may have seemed like Myuri’s boss at first glance. However, the sharp-eyed merchants could easily see that between the two of them, it was Myuri who made the decisions. After an exchange of glances, they started calling after her, practically begging her not to leave.

Myuri, who stood with her back to the merchants, flashed a smile that only Col could see, then stopped and turned around.

“All right, I’ll order both red and purple fabric plus an order of gold thread and silver thread, so throw in an extra 90 yards of hemp!”

The merchants pursed their lips, but purple fabric was dyed with shellfish innards, making it terribly expensive and thus profitable. Crimson dye was made from a particular kind of tree bark shipped in from distant lands, which meant the red fabric was also rather pricey, so it would be a shame to let such an opportunity pass.

The three fabric merchants practically fell to their knees before Myuri, begging her to at least make it only 60 yards of extra fabric. Myuri, certain of her leverage, confidently responded in an idle, evasive manner and they ultimately settled on 78 yards in the end.

Satisfied, she obtained signatures from the merchants and wrapped up the contract.

“Okay, what were we getting next?”

Myuri asked the question as she tucked her quill behind her ear after routing several battle-hardened merchants with surprising ease. She wore the outfit of a company errand boy rather than her regular clothes, making her look like a full-fledged merchant in her own right.

Col followed in Myuri’s wake as they made their rounds in the harbor, and quickly found himself dizzied by the life and energy suffusing Rausbourne. His momentary disorientation was due to the sheer amount of people packed into the Winfiel Kingdom’s second largest port city and the fact that this was his first outing in quite a while. The dazzling sunlight that signaled the end of the cold season certainly played a part as well.

But the vibrant atmosphere of the city did not just come from the sun’s rays and the number of people; Col realized that the radiant expressions on the faces of the city folk were an important element. Laughter could be heard wherever they went, and even the standard angry bellows often heard in a port almost sounded like the lines of a comedy. It was almost hard to believe that this was the place where tax collectors and traders had clashed in armed confrontations not so very long ago.

And beyond that, when the tax collectors had assembled before the cathedral in an open revolt, and the venerable merchants responsible for long-distance trading gathered at a tavern to hatch plots in private rooms, and the king of Winfiel mobilized his army, a great many people stood face-to-face with pain and sadness.

As Col looked out on the city, he thought about how truly glad he was that they had unraveled the brewing conflict. And that perhaps, as someone partially responsible for making it happen, it was okay for him to feel a bit of pride.

May the world find peace.

He could not help but clasp his hands together and give thanks to God as he appreciated the fine weather and lively city.

“Brother!”

As he offered his prayers while facing the sea, Myuri shoved a fresh contract into his chest.

“Look! I got us tin utensils, too!”

“O-oh, yes, I see. Well done.”

He looked down to see a contract detailing the purchase of several dozen sets of tableware at an exceptional price.

“Man, I thought we’d finally get to have some fun in town for the first time in a while, but you’ve been spending the whole time in a daze.”

Surely it hasn’t been the whole time…, Col thought, but when he considered how energetically Myuri ran about the crowded port, he figured that must be how he seems from her perspective.

“You can compliment me for all these purchases I’m making, or you could even hug me, you know. I don’t actually have to do any of this!” Myuri said chidingly, planting her hands on her hips and staring hard at him.

In that regard, Col felt very grateful, but also a bit guilty.

The reason the two of them were going around town and buying all sorts of goods was not to prepare for their journey, nor were they helping any company. This was for the monastery that would be built as a result of the settlement of the earlier uproar.

The Rausbourne Tax Collector Association, a fellowship of those who had been discarded by their fathers as illegitimate children of the clergy, had forced their way into the cathedral in a brazen act of reprisal. Though their anger was understandable, the pope was affronted by the blatant attack on his organization. And since the tax collectors relied on the collection permits issued by Winfiel Kingdom as grounds for their actions, their rioting had exacerbated the chances of war breaking out between the nation and the pope.

With little choice but to obfuscate the purpose of their break-in to avoid war, Col came up with the idea of claiming that it was not an attack at all, but a very passionate petition.

Though the tax collectors did privately run an orphanage, their financial situation left a lot to be desired. Col spun the story to explain that after their pent-up feelings on the situation finally boiled over, they fervently came forward to plea with the cathedral for permission to build a monastery for the orphanage.

While deceit was still deceit, Sharon, the vice president of the tax collection association, and Clark, the priest of a small parish that supported her, truly were paying out of pocket to keep an orphanage running. And since those children were the illegitimate offspring of clergymen, the cathedral did seem to feel some guilt when face-to-face with such concrete evidence of misdeeds.

And so, by getting a firm grip on a considerable truth and stretching the story as far as it would go, the commotion was laid to rest.

As a result, the whole uproar died down. All there was left to do was build a monastery.

It had been decided Clark would become the abbot and Sharon would manage the orphanage; together, they would offer help to children with nowhere to go, as they had gone through the exact same struggles.

“And so, that overblown chicken and your less impressive double lived happily ever after in the monastery…Wow!” Myuri said with a bit more energy than was natural and looked pointedly at Col.

He had his own reasons for looking away.

“If only my brother would build a monastery for me. Then we could live happily ever after there, too!”

She spoke a bit too loud for just talking to herself. To drive her point home, she also snuggled up against him.

Myuri had originally come along on this journey because she said she loved Col not as an older brother, but romantically. He, however, only saw Myuri as his younger sister. Moreover, he obviously could not marry since he was aspiring to become a fully-fledged priest. Myuri did seem like she had come to terms with that at some point, but then talks of the monastery had come along.

She seemed to think that with a monastery, not only would Col’s dream of becoming a priest come true, but that she would also get something that resembled the married life she always imagined.

From Col’s perspective, he could only see a facility like that as a glorified fence to pen a flock of sheep—and more importantly, he would never consider getting a monastery built on such impure motivations. Either way, he still had far too much to do to withdraw behind walls of stone so soon.

More and more people were calling him the Twilight Cardinal, and whether he liked it or not, his actions were making waves across the world. It was his responsibility to at least see things through before he decided his own future.

Though he had explained this to Myuri over and over, the teasing remarks she made whenever she had the chance bothered him more than they should have.

Col was still struggling to clarify their relationship and that shortcoming meant he was in no place to judge. In their journey thus far, Myuri had consistently shown him how earnest she felt by putting her life on the line without a second thought. Whether he accepted how she felt or not, he knew he had a responsibility to figure out what Myuri meant to him and settle things in a way that she found acceptable.

And yet, whenever he started to think about what he needed to do, he was bewildered by the absolute quandary before him.

“Well, the problem with going all in on monastery life is that it’d be hard to visit big cities like this anymore.”

Myuri stopped teasing and made a passing remark. Perhaps that was the biggest reason she never insisted too earnestly on a monastery.

“The occasional trip outside wouldn’t be impossible, but they are typically built in remote areas.”

“I’d suffocate.” Myuri drew up her shoulders. “I bet you wouldn’t mind, though. But mold’ll start growing on you if you stay locked up in your room for days, you know?”

She patted him on the back as she spoke. At the moment, he was wearing clothes on loan from Hyland and dressed like a young businessman, so he came off as perfectly presentable.

But it was also true that it had been almost a week since he had last gone outside.

After resolving the disturbance in Rausbourne and clearing the immediate issues surrounding the decision to build a monastery, Col was quickly embroiled in the all-consuming business of cleaning up the inevitable aftermath. They would need to conform to certain doctrines to properly establish a monastery, which involved following things like monastic regulation and founding principles. It was in these areas that he focused his efforts, since he could not contribute capital, nor was he very capable of laying the groundwork for the construction itself.

He should have gotten a chance to take a break once that work was over, but he had received a request directly from the cathedral. Archbishop Yagine had asked Col to continue his translation of the scripture into the common tongue—mainly in the hope that he would complete some parts that had yet to be translated while he was still in the city.

Col had been unable to make any progress on his translation work for some time now, and it was a distinct possibility that he would not have many chances to do so when they began traveling to the next city. The manor Hyland was renting was the perfect environment for writing, and the city of Rausbourne was not so big and lively that he was worried about letting Myuri roam it freely.

With all the stars seemingly aligned Col had been taking the opportunity to absorb himself in his work.

It was only since the previous night that he had finally finished translating. More precisely, it was in the deep of night, when nearly every living creature was fast asleep, that he crawled into the bed that Myuri had vacated to run an errand. Before long, and for the first time in many days, Col was fast asleep in a place that was not his desk.

When he awoke, Myuri had threatened to cry if he did not go out on the town with her. And so we return to the present.

“Out of curiosity, how much shopping do we have left to do?”

“Hmm? Here’s the list. We’re practically done.”

Col peered down at the bundle of papers she showed him and scanned through the massive list of provisions.

Some might assume a stone building filled with nothing but copies of the scripture and candles would suffice for a monastery, but that was not the case at all.

Even when it came to just clothes for the monks, precisely what they wore differed depending on rank, as did the colors of their sashes. That meant the quality of fabric had to be properly differentiated, which in turn meant the threads used for those fabrics varied as well. All these variations entailed procuring many sets of clothes. Even when considering just a few of the myriad necessities like furniture, candelabras to house the candles, and incense used for prayer, there was an astonishing number of things that had to be acquired.

It was Eve who ended up offering loans for all of the monastery’s necessities, but she had no intention of going out of her way to personally purchase all these odds and ends, so Myuri had taken on the job.

Myuri crossed out the items she had already procured, noting quantities, costs, and the name of the merchant or artisan beside each purchase.

“…You are an upstanding merchant already.”

Myuri’s eyebrows rose slightly when she heard his murmured praise, then she grinned with pride.

“Heh-heh.”

It had been some time since he last saw Myuri beneath the light of the sun and it dawned on him that she seemed a bit more grown up.

“That’s because I always had to eat lunch alone because of a certain somebody,” she said, pinching him lightly through his clothes.

Though she seemed like a selfish girl, Col knew that once he threw himself into some task or other, she was always considerate enough to leave him alone.

She pinned him with a disgruntled stare, so he smiled in willing defeat and clasped her hand.

“Then consider us back together starting today.”

Her red, jewellike eyes widened, and she beamed with a dazzling smile.

“Okay, so there’s something I want to eat!”

“All right, all right.”

Myuri tugged him along and he obediently followed as they walked through the harbor beneath a blue sky and to the chorus of seabirds.

The place Myuri dragged Col to was a type of food stall often seen around the harbor that would fry anything and everything in oil. For a small fee, they deep fried fish—the unpopular kind unloaded here at the port—and the bony parts left over from cleaning them.

Myuri never balked at expense, so of course she had not chosen this place because it was cheap.

Massive flounder bones, big enough that they almost had to be cradled with both arms, hung from metal hooks as they were dipped into bubbling oil. It was meant to be a show—in essence, a promotional stunt.

When Myuri shouted out that she was going to buy one, the stall keeper briefly paused in shock and then smiled, encouraging the crowd to applaud the courageous girl; the other patrons and onlookers did just that.

“I didn’t think I could finish it myself, so I wanted to try it with you.”

When she beamed at him like that, it was impossible to say no; and though he honestly doubted he would be much help, Col paid the two bronze pieces and accepted the flounder bones. Unlike himself who, sure enough, got heartburn after going through one fin and a few ribs, Myuri apparently could not get enough of the crunchy fatter bones, the aroma of the oil, and the enjoyable bite of the salt.

They wound their way onto an empty pier and sat down facing the sea. Myuri began to gleefully kick her feet as she bit into more flounder bones that were nearly three times as big as her own face.

“I can feel my heartburn getting worse just from watching you…”

“Hmm?”

The bones had been repeatedly dipped head-first into oil and then left to fry for quite a long time, infusing them with rich flavor. The oil left a lustrous sheen on her lips as she continued eating. As someone who had no confidence in his own stomach, Col almost admired her tenacity.

“Here, I bought some bread as well.”

“Thanks!”

Myuri accepted the bread and bit into it as though it was to wipe away the oil. An odd sensation came over him as he stood next to her, eating his own loaf of bread—he felt like he was realizing all over again that she was indeed a wolf girl.

With the brilliant sky stretched overhead and the slight breeze blowing through the harbor, it was the very picture of peace. In the distance, he could see ships with massive sails crowded together offshore, exchanging cargo with a cluster of barges.

It was a sight that made him consider how every large vessel bobbing out there had arrived here after their own arduous journey across the sea, and he began to understand that the world was surely much bigger than he could possibly imagine.

“Hey, Brother?”

When all she had left of the flounder bones was the tail and the few spine bits, Myuri took what seemed like a satisfied swig from her waterskin before speaking up again.

“What kind of city are we going to next? Are we heading even farther south?”

The end of her sentence came with a little burp. Col frowned to emphasize how improper that was for a girl her age, but she brushed it off with a smile.

It seemed it would be a long while yet before she was fit for polite society.

“I suppose we’ll find out soon. Heir Hyland will likely have orders for us once she returns.”

“Hmm. The people at the manor said she’s probably gonna be back today or so. I guess we can just ask then.”

“What? Did they really say that?” Col asked in surprise, to which Myuri responded with a shrug, almost as though she was sorry for him.

“How would you ever make it in the world without me?”

He could not deny that it was absolutely true that he had left all sorts of things in her care.

As Col reflected on how he needed to get his act together, Myuri hunched over to bite into the fish bones again, filling her cheeks to the point where it practically changed the shape of her face, before finally swallowing them all.

“Oh, right, I almost forgot to tell you.”

“…What is it?”

He was trying to calm the slight ache in his chest at the sight of her eating when she suddenly spoke up.

“An artisan told me that there are gonna be a lot of shops set up outside the cathedral starting today.”

“Ahh, at last.”

He knew what she was referring to.

The Kingdom of Winfiel had refused to pay taxes to the pope, who in retaliation then commanded all the clergy in the kingdom halt religious services. Rausbourne was no exception—for years, the cathedral gates had remained firmly shut, sacred duties abandoned.

But in the wake of the commotion several days prior, the gates were finally unbarred. Col had been one of the many who participated in the first mass in years. The people of the city celebrated the resumption of church services with great cheer, and crowds had swarmed the cathedral.

As a further result, he had also heard that the city would be reviving the cathedral gate market.

It seemed that today was the grand reopening.

“Just so you know, we will not be wasting our money.”

A market meant stalls, and stalls meant food.

Myuri finished drinking from the waterskin and looked at him.

“Okaaay.”

She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and offered him a response he did not trust in the least.

The front doors of the Rausbourne cathedral stood wide open with crowds of people continuously streaming in and out. Col had seen it just like this not too long ago at the first mass. While the lively scene warmed his heart, he immediately noticed that was only the beginning.

The square in front of the cathedral had always been a lively place, with well-known restaurants specializing in mutton and various other attractions. Now, though, it was also packed full of market stalls. And filling the remaining space was a veritable sea of people.

“This is amazing, Brother!”

Myuri was thrilled, but what brought Col relief was that there weren’t very many food stalls.

Almost everything on offer was related to faith in one way or another, be it candles for mass or small stone statuettes for prayer. And yet, among these wares were undoubtedly items the pair had rarely seen during their travels through the kingdom, due to its ongoing conflict with the Church, and Myuri studied everything with great fascination.

What she lacked in faith, she made up for with her devotion to fashion—Myuri immediately took to stalls selling tapestries, gloves, coats, head scarves, and all sorts of other products featuring the symbol of the faith. She had a grand time sifting through it all, trying on kerchiefs lined with tassels, or wrapping a bright red shawl embroidered with the Church’s crest around her shoulders.

Though his lectures went in one ear and out the other with her, Col wondered if perhaps Myuri might one day find faith through fashion. “Shall I get one for you?” he asked, attempting to entice her, but she shook her head and returned the shawl to the stall owner.

“No. I don’t wanna empty your wallet out too much, so it’s okay. I don’t need it.”

After receiving the shawl back, the stall owner seemed touched by how considerate Myuri was, but of course, Col could not help but smile skeptically.

“I would be even happier to hear you say that at a food stall,” he said to her as she grasped his hand. The rambunctious girl simply shrugged in reply.

“There’d be no point. We’re saving money for yummy food!”

Though her answer hardly surprised him, he still sighed.

“I swear…”

“Eh-heh-heh.” Myuri laughed impishly and drew closer to him before she said, “The stall I really want to look at is somewhere else. The artisan said there’d be a stall in front of the cathedral…”

“No food,” Col warned, though he assumed his efforts would be in vain. Myuri flashed a toothy smile at him and suddenly began hopping in place.

“There it is!”

She grabbed his hand and forged ahead.

The stall she brought him to sold bits of cloth that ranged in size from as small as a finger to as large as a hand.

“These are…”

Myuri examined all the bits of fabric laid out across the stall with such intense focus that Col was worried her ears and tail might pop out. There were thickly woven pieces of wool, but also thin, sturdy hemp cloth. Apart from the usual Church crest motifs, there were also faces of men and women, as well as plenty of animals embroidered onto the pieces of fabric.

All of them were meant for one purpose.

“…Amulets, I see. Why have we come here?”

Myuri held no faith toward the Church, nor was she the type to rely on patron saints.

But she looked over the amulets in excitement, and picked one of them up to show it to Col.

“Look, Brother, look! It’s a turtle!”

There was an image of a turtle holding a ship sail in its mouth, and Col was rather surprised to see that such an amulet even existed. He doubted the Church would look very kindly upon this, considering how reverence of nature was associated with heretical faiths, but then the young stall keeper spoke to them.

“That coat of arms belongs to the Euran Order of Knights. An ancient order that was once active here in the kingdom and famous for their skill in battle at sea. Perfect for keeping you safe from trouble out on the ocean. And just the thing to keep the pirates away!”

It was the crest of a band of knights.

While Col was surprised to find such a thing on an amulet, Myuri had sunk her teeth into the stall keeper’s story.

“Yeah, that’s it! I came to see the crests! What others do you have?”

“Oh ho, we have so many more back here. Pick and choose any you like!”

The seller must have sensed the business opportunity, because a new crate was quickly produced from the back of the stall. It was stuffed with an almost shocking amount of cloth—every piece dyed with various crests and symbols.

“Whoa, that’s amazing! Are all of these knight crests?” Myuri asked, her eyes glittering, and the stall keeper cleared his throat.

“Many, many orders of knights existed in the kingdom long ago. Do you know why that is?” the stall keeper asked in a theatrical manner, and Myuri excitedly shook her head. “Then allow me to regale you with a tale. Long, long ago, the Kingdom of Winfiel was a benighted country, ruled by savages. But then, the great emperor, ruler of the ancient empire, gathered the soldiers of the Church and formed an order of knights who marched into this land. That marks the beginning of this kingdom’s long history.”

“Whoa! Did you know that, Brother?!”

Col had limited knowledge of the kingdom’s history. He placed his hand on Myuri’s head in order to calm her, then signaled the stall keeper with a look. Catching his drift, the stall keeper began to recite lines like a storyteller.

“Ahem! Despite how this was the great emperor of the ancient empire and these were the best knights the Church could offer, the war they waged to drive out the barbarians was a fierce one. This was due to the incredible range in climate and terrain found across the kingdom, which was so great that many said four distinct worlds could be found inside its borders. Back then, each land had several different kings—it was an era of warring kings who reigned over the lands they felt most at home in. The kings that ruled the north were proficient in battle even when wading through ice and snow, and the kings that ruled the east dominated in combat at sea. The kings that ruled the south were formidable when fighting on the vast plains, and the kings that ruled the west were masters of war within the steep, rugged mountains. Each of them fought in different ways, and each of them had their own talents. And because of that, the great empire and the knights of the Church operated separately for the duration of the long war against the barbarians. It was then that these crests were used by the knights.”

This was a part of history that Col wasn’t familiar with, and it seemed like Myuri’s tail would pop out at any moment as she listened raptly.

“After the current king’s ancestor united the regional knights, all that was left of the old orders are these crests you see here.”

“Wow, I had no idea…They’re all so cool, though…!”

Myuri’s reaction drew a look of triumph from the stall keeper’s face, probably out of a sense of pride after sharing the kingdom’s storied history.

“Hey, I heard that all the crests have meaning behind them. Is that true?”

“Of course, of course. Take this one, for example—a deer standing in front of a shield. This one belonged to an order that guarded a fortress nestled in the valleys to the west. The shield represents the duty of defense and the deer was a symbol of their skill in fighting on the narrow mountain paths. The order’s core principles are represented here on the ribbon at the top, and the little ornaments on each side display status and lineage. There’s a grail here in the lower right, which means they had notable ties to the Church, and over here…”

Myuri was listening intently as the stall keeper explained further. Though Col was frustrated—this was the only kind of thing she ever showed interest in—he understood why she had wanted to come here.

“I want to make my own crest. What should I do?”

Several days ago, Col had been going back and forth between the cathedral and manor every day, making sure all the monastery preparations were properly following Church doctrine. This was also the period he had been cutting back on sleep to continue working. Since Sharon would be founding a new monastery, the topic of needing a crest naturally came up. Myuri absolutely loved tales of adventure, so talk of creating a new crest was akin to presenting a hunk of roast meat to a stray dog. But creating a crest was different from making a sign for a storefront. Col figured that if they let her stay and listen in, she would wind up being a handful. In the end, he handed her a wax board and a wooden pen to let her draw whatever she pleased in an effort to get her out of their hair.

“Oh yeah? Making something for your own store in the future, is it?”

The stall keeper must have come to that conclusion since she was dressed like a trading company errand boy.

“Yeah, something like that. And so I wanted to take a look at a lot of different designs.”

“Hmm…I don’t think it’d be easy to draw it yourself from a blank slate.”

“Really? I guess I should ask an artisan to do it. I’m not really good at drawing myself…”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” the stall keeper said, scratched his head, then grabbed a different piece of cloth. “Take this, for example. This is the kingdom’s most well-known crest.”

“A sheep?”

“Yep. This is the crest for the kingdom’s Knights of the Golden Sheep, and if you just decide you want to use a sheep in your own crest, then…y’know.” He drew his hand across his neck like a blade. “A crest symbolizes your station in life. If you copy the royal seal just ’cause you feel like it, then it wouldn’t be surprising if all your friends and followers end up in the gallows. And these amulets follow a totally different format than real crests; these are expressly permitted to be used as amulets. So maybe the creeds at the top are different, or the ornaments placed around the image are different. You see the Rausbourne seal on the bottom right, yeah? You’d need special permission just to sell anything carrying that symbol.”

“Wow…”

“If you decide to make up your own crest and start enthusiastically hanging it everywhere, it’d be a catastrophe. Especially if you end up accidentally overlapping with a noble family from somewhere.”

“Are they gonna find out if you overlap?”

“Of course they will. If you go to a big city, you’ll usually find there’s an officer of arms who’ll go around and check things out. And you’ll get people jealous if you have a crest that looks like a noble’s. You can count on someone tipping the officer off.”

Myuri’s face scrunched up in response to society’s inconvenient systems.

“Well, it’s tough enough for me to run this stall, so owning a company big enough to have a coat of arms and not just a sign is a dream in a dream. And you always get to choose if you want to dream or not, so why not take one for reference?”

Despite how discouraged Myuri seemed in response to the stall keeper’s sales pitch, she began her search for the amulet she was looking for.

Even after putting away such a huge portion of flounder bones and some bread on top of that, Myuri sat on the massive stone steps of the cathedral munching on a honey-dipped biscuit.

Though she had a new snack in hand, she did not seem very cheerful at all; she took a nibble of her biscuit and sighed, then took another nibble and sighed again. Though Col knew he should not be spoiling her, he could not help but buy her something sweet after seeing how despondent she was.

There were two reasons she was in this state.

One was coming face-to-face with the onerous social restrictions surrounding the use of heraldry.

The other reason was that in a stall that sold all different types of amulets, she was still unable to find what she was looking for.

“Even though they had eagles…There were so many eagles…,” she muttered, staring blankly at the bottom of the steps. The amulet stall seemed to have every type of design imaginable—from deer, to turtles, to standard ones like lions, and even odder types, like rabbits and fish. She also found a good handful of crests featuring plants, a newer trend that depicted things like lilies, olives, and laurel trees.

After searching every nook and cranny, Myuri had finally asked, Do you have any wolves?

The stall keeper had looked at her in shock for a moment, then burst out laughing. This was the Kingdom of Winfiel, after all—the land known the world over for its wool. The order of knights that served the king directly were called the Knights of the Golden Sheep. Why would anyone have a crest featuring a wolf, the sheep’s mortal enemy?

Though such mysterious strength was valued back in the time of the ancient empire, wolves were mostly equated with attacking livestock and hurting people. And apparently, this also meant it was a symbol favored by mercenaries, who used their ferociousness as a selling point. Only a small portion of the oldest noble families, whose lineages could be traced directly back to the ancient empire, used wolf motifs at all.

On the other hand, though Myuri often referred to Sharon as a chicken and quarreled with her, Sharon’s animal form, the eagle, was featured on a great deal of crests. When Myuri learned it was still a popular design even in modern times, she became even more depressed.

“It seems like crest designs go in and out of fashion,” Col tried to say as harmlessly as he could. Myuri inhaled deeply and sighed.

Col smiled wryly at the sigh, and he continued.

“At least that doesn’t apply to wolves on signs, yes?”

In the hot spring village of Nyohhira especially, it was often said that the most popular bathhouse that outshone all the other long-established houses was the one with a wolf on its sign.

For Myuri, however, that was hardly the point.

“But I don’t want a sign…,” she muttered in a hoarse voice. “Those crests had such a cool system…”

As the amulet stall keeper explained, coats of arms had a set format: a plant or animal represented the owner’s origin, the creeds they lived by, and various ornaments that detailed their history.

Just as formal rituals possessed an indescribable, yet undeniable import, signs that were not so concerned with form clearly did not carry the same gravitas as a coat of arms.

“Plus, I didn’t know you couldn’t just use whatever you wanted.”

Coats of arms symbolized who someone was and where they came from—there would be little point if anyone could use whatever crest they felt like.

Myuri sulked, taking it out on the biscuit as she bit into it.

Though she loved all adventure stories, the ones that got her most excited invariably featured knights.

It was only natural that she was so taken with real crests.

Children certainly get attached to all sorts of things, Col mused, noticing something dangling at his chest as he twisted around from his seat on the steps. It was the crest of the Church.

This was something that true believers would always wear. He clasped the crest in his hand and turned to look up at the building behind him.

The stone cathedral towered over them, and the same crest he held in his hands also hung from the eaves directly above the main entrance. When the faithful looked up at it and grasped their own crests, surely they felt a connection with God, renewing their faith.

Which meant—

“Brother?”

It was Myuri’s voice that brought him back to his senses.

“Are you okay?”

Col had a bad habit of losing himself in his own thoughts, and Myuri apparently regarded this behavior as somewhat frightening. She once described it as the same eerie feeling people get when they spot a cat staring at an empty corner of a room.

Col’s expression relaxed when he looked at Myuri, who was still a bit hunched over, and he reached out to her.

“You have honey on your face.”

As he wiped it off with his index finger, she closed one eye in annoyance.

“Let’s make a crest.”

“Huh?”

It was not a pure smile that he offered to the astonished Myuri.

“A crest. Do you not want one?”

The sheer joy she felt made the words catch in her throat, but then she suddenly paused.

“…Wh-why, all of a sudden?”

Col was the type to scold her for eating even one skewer of lamb—usually saying it was a waste of money, or that she was eating too much.

There were all sorts of complicated rules when it came to creating a crest, so what could he possibly ask for in exchange for this?

Col sensed her caution, smiled, and admitted to her, “I haven’t been able to reciprocate your feelings. Correct?”

“Uh…um… Huh?”

“At the end of the day, I still see you as my younger sister, though we are not related by blood, while you wish to be more than just my sister. Is that correct?”

Myuri suddenly grew anxious at him bringing up this topic so abruptly. She almost seemed on the brink of tears.

Perhaps she had imagined this might be the end of their journey together.

But conversely, that was a sign of how difficult she thought it would be to reconcile their positions.

Her feelings were sincere, to an extent that calling them a young child’s passing impulse would be terribly inconsiderate. There was no doubt that she had been in a lot of pain when they had decided to put the matter on hold for a time.

What she had kept hidden through the curtain of resignation was, without a doubt, the raw feelings laid out before him at this very moment.

“Coats of arms are protected by rules. Once a crest has been formally recognized, no one else may use the exact same pattern.”

When Col added to the stall keeper’s explanation, Myuri huddled into a smaller ball as she peered up at him with wide eyes.

“Permission to use a coat of arms is protected by something called privileges. For example, special permission to use a crest is usually only granted by nobles or city councils. That is why, if we make a crest just for ourselves, we will be the only ones in the world allowed to use it.”

When he said that, Myuri’s eyes snapped open.

People often described going completely still with the popular expression, “A witch sneezed.”

Myuri’s state perfectly captured this—she sat there completely frozen, like a statue.

“What do you think? I vowed to you that no matter what happens, I will always be there for you. I can’t guarantee that in the form of marriage, but I thought that perhaps a crest would be a good alternative. I do want to keep traveling with you, but for the moment we—”

Col was cut off by Myuri leaping toward him.

Just like a wolf pouncing with no warning, the next thing Col registered was that the sky was spinning and he had fallen down.

Though it may have been due to how touched she was that she clung to his neck and buried her face into his shoulder as though she was going to bite him, it may have also been because she was desperately trying her hardest to keep her ears and tail from sprouting.

When Col managed to sit back up, he noticed some odd stares coming from passing merchants, but it was not unusual to see two young people enjoying a romantic rendezvous in the sunny cathedral square.

And if it made Myuri that happy, then he did not mind becoming the world’s laughingstock.

Col embraced her small form in return and whispered, “It will be a coat of arms that only you and I can use. And then, even when you get married, you can take it with you as a dowry, in the form of a privilege.”

When he said that, she glared up at him with her damp red eyes.

“I’m not marrying anyone besides you.”

Her powerful stare told him this was the one thing she would never compromise on, and when she finally relaxed, she hung her head and rubbed her face with both sleeves.

When Myuri looked back up, she was already smiling.

“But that makes me happy, Brother. Thank you!”

Col returned the smile and hugged her briefly once more.

He idly wondered how intensely her tail would be wagging if it were out, but once they parted, she lifted her head like a waterfowl coming up for air.

“But how are we gonna make it?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t we need a noble’s permission or something like that?”

Col was rather astonished at the question, because she had not said it as a joke. She was genuinely asking him.

It was absolute proof that she rarely ever paid attention to authority.

“What are you talking about? Is it not thanks to a certain someone that we get to stay in a lovely manor here in Rausbourne?”

“…Oh! Blondie!”

Hyland was genuine royalty.

If they asked her, she would almost certainly grant them permission to use one or two coats of arms.

Col figured as much, but he did not forget to pinch Myuri’s cheeks.

“She is not ‘Blondie’; her name is Heir Hyland.”

“E-ehh Haiwah…”

“Good grief.”

He had barely squeezed her with his fingers, but when he let go, she still made a show of rubbing her cheek in pain before forcefully hugging him again.

She sure is an active girl. He smiled in exasperation.

“Let’s return to the manor. You did say that Heir Hyland should be returning this evening, right?”

“Oh yeah! We’ve gotta pick what our crest will look like!”

“I doubt we need to decide right away.”

“C’mon, Brother, get up! We need to get back to the manor!” Myuri shot up and began tugging at Col’s clothing.

He was glad to see her as energetic as always and felt like he had finally managed to fulfill one of his responsibilities.

Before he allowed her to drag him down the stone steps, he turned back to look at the cathedral.

He gave his thanks to God and followed Myuri soon after.

*   *   *

Myuri lay on her stomach on the bed, kicking her feet as she doodled crests in a wax tablet. Her ears perked when she heard the carriage, and she leaped from the bed.

Though they had gotten much closer and casual as of late, Hyland appeared to still sense a bit of a wall between her and Myuri. Though she was delighted to have Myuri welcoming her back with a beaming smile the moment she stepped from her carriage, she was terribly bewildered by the surprise greeting.

Myuri even took the initiative to bring in Hyland’s things; Hyland, too, moved to help for some reason, but her servants stopped her.

Col felt bad for her when he saw that happen, so when he finally explained, “She actually has something she wishes to ask of you,” a look of understanding finally crossed the royal’s face.

“Ahh…I see. I was wondering why that was happening.” Hyland instead seemed relieved and smiled brightly. “Which must mean that is a child who helps because she wants something, which I’ve heard so much about. Is it not?”

Hyland glanced at Myuri as she busily carried trunks back and forth, and a gentle smile spread across her face. Col felt like he was about to disappear from the embarrassment.

“My father came to my house several times when I was a child.”

“Hmm?”

Col turned to look at Hyland when she made the sudden remark, and she was gazing off into the distance.

“He would tell me there was nothing endearing about me. I was not a part of the head family, so I tried so hard to show how disciplined and upstanding I could be, but it seems the right tactic was to simply wheedle for his attention.”

Col had a feeling that Myuri was not so much simple or honest as much as just plain rude. Hyland, however, watched Myuri as though she were comparing answers to an old test.

“I truly wanted to act like a spoiled child with him.”

Though she was a royal, Hyland was an illegitimate child. In most cases, the mother and child of similar background would be given a paltry sum of money and be sent off to a remote village somewhere or erased outright if the country were facing questions about royal succession.

Though it was simply through Hyland’s excellent capabilities that she had been allowed to inherit a branch household under the royal family despite being only a distant relative, Col could tell from the way she acted now that she had endured a great deal to get there.

“Ahh, my apologies. It’s not a very interesting story.”

“That is not true at all.”

Col figured that whatever he said would end up sounding rude, and had settled on that response.

“I wonder what kind of favor she’s going to ask for. I can’t wait.”

“Er, well…”

“No, you don’t have to tell me now. Heh-heh. I always thought it was weird to see the great, terrible nobles fawning over their nieces and nephews, but now I get it. I understand.” Hyland was gleefully impressed. “I also have some good news…Well, I’m not exactly sure if I can call it that, but I do have something to tell you. At dinner, of course.”

Col felt nervous at the mention of news, but it did not sound like a bad thing.

“Understood.”

Immediately after he gave his response, Hyland turned to look at Myuri. She seemed unable to help how excited she became as she watched the cunning girl pretend to be an obedient one.

Afterward, Col brought up the subject of the coats of arms at the dinner table.

Hyland did not seem reluctant at all; in fact, she was so surprised and happy that she was at a loss for words.

Since she knew about Myuri’s romantic feelings toward Col, and Col’s faith, she understood right away what the crest would mean for them. She even pointedly mentioned how much it was like being a witness at a wedding, to which Myuri heartily agreed, and Col denied.

Either way, they were readily granted privileges to use a crest without a problem, and Hyland once again gently and earnestly proclaimed that she would take on their request.

There was no need for contracts or to shake hands like merchants.

Promises made by those of high standing were fulfilled on their word alone.

Myuri was visibly delighted and Hyland watched on with joy.

As a bonus, Hyland told them what it was like in the royal court. Since chances of war with the Church had risen after the events in Rausbourne, many there were insistent on being careful and conservative when it came to dealing with the Church.

It was common to hear comments that said the effects of changes throughout the world due to the appearance of the Twilight Cardinal were both a good and bad thing. On the plus side, the Church was facing increasing pressure from the masses, which had led them to start voluntarily reforming on the mainland, with some churches even divesting themselves of assets they had accumulated over time.

On the other hand, the nobles predicted that if they pushed much further with any drastic actions, the Church may respond with a forceful counter.

Therefore, rather than provoking the pope to set off a war, the nobles proposed to let the situation rest for a little while, much like one would with bread dough. If the Church were to change on its own, there was hope yet that the pope might reconsider his position.

And so, the court had elected for a temporary suspension of hostilities. Hyland, most notably, had apparently been ordered to keep the Twilight Cardinal quiet for the time being, mentioning him by name.

Hyland had seemed delighted since she, Col, and their companions had been acknowledged not as chaff, but a proper force to be reckoned with in the conflict. Col, too, felt himself trembling slightly from the excitement.

That said, he still had work to do on his translation, and Myuri had a coat of arms to think about, so he was thankful for the break.

And so dinner went on; at one point Myuri even served Hyland her drink, and their laughs and smiles continued for hours.

The morning after a night of too much drink, Col awoke to the light of dawn filtering in through the gaps in the wooden window. It was time for morning mass, and while he would like to say that he naturally woke up due to his daily habits and faith, he actually emerged from his slumber thanks to the cathedral bells signaling the beginning of service that so many had been waiting for.

It was a bit chilly when he opened the window, but the solemn tolling of the bell coupled with the mist characteristic of coastal towns made for a pleasant combination. Cities most certainly felt lonely without a bell.

He knelt before the window, offered his prayers, and gave thanks for the coming of another day.

Once the echoes of the ringing bell had completely faded, he sighed as he stood.

“Where on earth could Myuri be this early?”

She had already been gone from the bed when he awoke.

He knew from the hairs her tail left behind that she had crawled into his blankets sometime during the night, but he did not know why she would be up so early; they were not traveling today.

On second thought, he reckoned that she must have gotten hungry and went to request breakfast, so he pulled out the chair and sat down at the writing desk. What he prepared were not tools for the scripture translation, but thin paper for writing letters and a quill. The whole series of chaotic events that had greeted them when they first set foot in Rausbourne meant that it had been quite a while since he last wrote a letter to Nyohhira, so it was about time he remedied that.

Especially since he had to report that Hyland had given her permission for them to create and use a personal coat of arms. In a way, being granted this privilege meant they now had a strong bond with the authority who issued it. What’s more, these were not common trading privileges—this was permission to use their own crest.

Having those rights be granted with the possibility of war so near meant it would not be an exaggeration to say that connection gave them status as retainers of the royal family. Any young person who left their home village hoping to see the world could certainly return home with pride after an achievement like this.

Of course, Hyland had explained that they still needed to consider the purpose of their newly granted heraldry. That was something Col and Myuri needed to decide between themselves.

At the same time, however, it was also something he needed to inform Lawrence and Holo about.

“But…”

He paused, still holding the quill.

How should he inform the Nyohhira couple?

When Hyland spoke of the crest, she immediately took note of the implied meaning behind the decision.

So what would happen if he told Lawrence, Myuri’s father, about this?

In his previous letters, he had superficially stated that Myuri’s reasons for coming along were because she wanted to see the world, and that Myuri was helping him quite a lot.

Of course, Myuri’s mother, Holo, already knew how she felt, and she essentially sent her daughter on her way because it amused her, so it was not odd to assume that Holo had already told Lawrence of Myuri’s feelings. However, that still did not solve the rather distressing problem for Col as to whether or not he should inform Lawrence himself that Myuri harbored romantic feelings toward her traveling companion.

But if Col were to mention the crest without touching on the meaning behind their decision, that would also be a bit strange. Because then he would have to explain why he was bringing up a crest all of a sudden, which would be the same as brushing over the most important part of it, which felt insincere to him. In fact, if Lawrence already knew about Myuri’s romantic feelings, then leaving out an explanation would only invite unnecessary misconceptions.

As Col sat in front of the sheet of paper, quill in hand, thinking about this problem, he grew more and more uneasy.

A crest that only he and Myuri could use.

Though he had considered it a brilliant idea when he first thought of it, he now viewed it as incredibly profound, and even somewhat wanton.

Myuri would certainly treasure the crest.

And that only complicated his feelings on the matter.

“I suppose I cannot take it back now…”

Myuri would be furious, and Hyland would be disappointed.

As he sat there moaning that perhaps he was simply thinking too much, something startled him.

“Ahhh, I’m so hungry!”

The door was flung open and Myuri leaped into the room.

Col was so shocked his heart almost flew out of his mouth, and he dropped the quill.

“Hmm? What’s wrong, Brother?”

Myuri stared at him, and the only answer Col could muster was, “Please don’t open the door so suddenly…”

“C’mon, we need to go eat breakfast! I’m super hungry!”

She wore the clothes of a merchant, with bundles of paper in her hand and a quill tucked behind her ear.

“Don’t tell me you have been out making purchases before dawn?”

“The harbor wakes up really early, Brother.” She poked him with the tip of her quill. “The artisans take it easy till the sun rises, so I went and took care of the rest of the stuff for the monastery.”

“Oh…Well done…”

The reason Col sounded so hesitant was because he did not know why she had to wake up so early to square everything away. He had fully expected her to sleep in until noon, especially since they would be staying in Rausbourne for a bit longer now.

As Col watched her loosen the sash around her waist—one she wore simply because it looked cool—and undo her roughly bound hair, Myuri spoke up.

“Let’s go out when we’re done with breakfast, Brother!”

“Go out? To where?”

She placed her hands on her hips and grinned.

“To the municipal office!”

All his questions—why they were going there, why she knew such a word in the first place—were answered over breakfast.

As the sun rose and the sea mist cleared, Col, Myuri, Hyland, and four of Hyland’s attendants headed over to the municipal office, which sat at the edge of the city plaza. Stalls targeting the morning churchgoers were already set up outside the cathedral. It seemed today was going to be another busy day.

“Then I will verify the procedures on my end. This is my first time granting crest privileges, after all.”

“Understood.”

“We’re meeting up at the Golden Fern for lunch, right?”

Hyland, who had just set off down the flagstone corridor, spun around at Myuri’s question and winked mischievously.

“C’mon, Brother.”

Myuri took Col by the hand and pulled him along in the opposite direction that Hyland had gone.

Though the place stood on the Rausbourne plaza along with the cathedral and the ever-popular lamb restaurant, the Golden Fern, the municipal office was a great, solemn space, isolated from the hustle and bustle outside. It had been built over two hundred years ago and anyone who stepped inside could feel the weight of all that stone and time.

This was the home of the city’s government, and one of the departments housed in the building managed coats of arms. Hyland had come here to confirm the procedures needed to apply for a new crest, and Myuri was present to decide on what sort of design they would use.

“Do you have any experience in handling books?”

They stood before a bronze door, which reminded Col somewhat of a church, and the arms officer, who managed the library, posed them a question. He seemed the epitome of a high-ranking bureaucrat, with his long beard stiffened with egg whites; Col saw Myuri squirming from her obvious desire to touch the beard.

“I have experience in transcribing the scripture.”

“Ahh, God would be delighted to hear that. Very good, very good,” the officer said as he opened the door with a key that was much oversized even in an adult’s hand and invited them inside.

“Whoa…”

The instant they crossed over the threshold, Myuri murmured. Rather than holding her breath in admiration, her voice seemed tinged with a hint of fear.

Though it was not a terribly large space, books crammed the room from floor to ceiling, at a height which was about three or four times Col’s own. The room was pentagonal in shape, and when he looked up to the ceiling, it almost felt like he had fallen into a well of books.

It seemed the books on the higher shelves could be reached by climbing a moveable ladder, but Col had no confidence he could manage to make it all the way to the top.

“When you are looking something up, please open the books on the table. Do not open any whilst holding them. There is a guide map on the wall over there. You may take a look at some rough crests on the tapestries over there.”

“I see, thank you.”

The officer nodded, satisfied, and said, “Take your time,” before leaving the room.

“I wonder how many crests there are in total,” Myuri said, finally snapping out of her daze.

“I have heard there are four, maybe five thousand in the kingdom alone. There are an incredible number of them.”

“Whoa, that’s so many.”

“And if you include families from the mainland, I have heard that the number rises well into the hundreds of thousands.”

A vague smile crossed Myuri’s face, as though she was unable to imagine a number so big.

“But most designs are essentially the same. The details that always change are the creeds, and the little ornaments in the corners. We can see the rough designs over here.”

The tapestry the officer had pointed out was affixed to an old brass board, placed in a darker corner of the room.

“The sheep is the biggest one.”

It was the legendary golden sheep—drawn in profile, with a grand physique featuring bulging shoulder muscles and massive horns.

This design served as the basis for the current royal family’s crest.

“You’ve met him before, right?”

Though there was no one else in the room with them, Myuri asked Col in a quiet voice.

“Yes. He was very firm in his convictions…Ah, yes, I suppose he was like Miss Ilenia.”

The sheep avatar Ilenia, whom they met at the previous port town, was Myuri’s first nonhuman friend.

Myuri seemed happy to hear that Ilenia and the golden sheep were similar, but Col did not forget to add an important detail.

“What makes them similar is their strength. This one looks like an old man.”

“Oh, right…”

Myuri must have thought she could have made another friend.

“Oh, a turtle. He said that one was the Euran Order of Knights, right?”

There were rows of crests they had spotted at the amulet stall outside the cathedral. Those of deer and rabbits were about the same size as the Euran Order, lined up in a way that made it seem like they were supporting the legs of the golden sheep, so perhaps they were crests of knightly orders that once existed in the kingdom.

“There are eagles.”

They were depicted on either side of the sheep, making them the second biggest animal on the tapestry, which brought a frown to Myuri’s face. It must have been a coat of arms for a well-known household.

“Everything with eagles…seems to be included from this shelf to that one.”

All the past visitors must have used their fingers to point and confirm the shelf guide that hung on the wall since it was so dark in the room—it was marked with finger oil, making it seem like an ancient map.

As Col followed the faded letters, he was shocked to see just how many crests used an eagle design.

“There may be even more eagles than the venerable sheep crests,” he mused, hoping to soothe Myuri, but that only made her even more dissatisfied. “Um…Oh, look, there are wolves.”

He saw wolf written near the top of the guide map.

The section for crests featuring wolves was in the left corner of a large floor-to-ceiling bookcase. The space they were allotted was about the same as if someone took half the height of the bookcase and then halved it again widthways.

“That’s not a lot at all!” Myuri whined, but in the end she slowly pulled one book from the shelf, cradling it as she took it back to the lectern. It was bound in leather hard enough to deflect a sword, and old enough that it was dried and cracked.

The fasteners attached to the edge of the pages were also falling apart, and the smell of mold wafted forth whenever she turned a page, signifying how many years it had been since someone had last touched the book.

“Wow…”

Yet she did not seem to mind the smell at all when she got to enjoy one of her favorite things.

Her eyes began to dance and her ears and tail immediately popped out.

Col, in a fluster, almost tried to get her to put them away, but then he stopped short.

The girl, inheritor of the blood of wolves and born as a nonhuman, sobbed when she had learned the secret of her lineage, lamenting that she was alone.

Yet there were people out there in the world who used wolves in their coats of arms, using the animal as the symbol of their house. Though the number was dwindling in recent times, there were still a good handful of people who proudly associated their family name with the wolf’s strength and mystique.

The valiant depictions of the wolves made that fact painfully clear to her.

It was rare to see another’s heart so clearly and genuinely moved.

Col could not bring himself to dampen her excitement.

Just how long did he spend watching her?

Myuri abruptly rubbed her eyes with her sleeve, then for some reason, smiled sheepishly.

“I wonder,” she said, “if any of these people met Mother’s friends, like Uncle Luward?”

Myuri was named after the friend of Holo the Wisewolf, as well as the mercenary company who still spoke of her friend’s name throughout the world today. Luward was the captain of the Myuri Mercenary Company, and if one traced Luward’s lineage, through father’s father’s father and on and on, the search would eventually turn up someone who did indeed battle alongside a massive wolf named Myuri.

It was that history that gave them the wolf emblem for their company.

“Perhaps. It is said that the many founders of various lineages often chose designs that resonated deeply with them when choosing a coat of arms. Much like your own father and Mister Luward, they may have worked together with a wolf to lay the foundations for a noble house in ancient times.”

This room contained the echoes of that bygone age in stories and records, relaying glimpses of a time when spirits roaming the forests were a common sight and various mythical creatures often interacted with humans.

Myuri must have realized that—she lifted her head and her breath caught in her throat.

This was none other than a home of great tales, where the sediment of time created an almost inconceivable number of layers.

“I wonder what kind of wolves they were,” Myuri said as she brushed her finger along the fur outline of the wolf on the crest. “Maybe it was even Mother.”

“That is not entirely impossible, which is the most incredible part.”

It was a dizzying, unbelievable story for most, but Myuri’s silver tail whipped back and forth beside Col, which made him smile—he was witnessing one of the world’s fantastic secrets.

“Oh, but”—as she flipped through the pages, her triangular wolf ears suddenly drooped—“these wolves might not be around anymore.”

“What?” Col asked, and Myuri slowly closed the large book, as though she was placing the lid back on her heart.

“The Moon-Hunting Bear.”

Col could not even make a noise in his realization.

That was the bear of myth who was said to have once fought many spirits, ending the age of forests and the night.

According to what Lawrence had found in his research on Holo’s friends from her hometown, they had perished in that battle.

And it was very likely that the Moon-Hunting Bear may have massacred a good number of the spirits that served as the basis for the crests in this library.

“Ugh, that brings back bad memories.”

As one who had inherited the blood of wolves, killing the Moon-Hunting Bear would be an act of retribution for Myuri. Holo the Wisewolf, who was alive during that age, did not seem to feel anything akin to resentment anymore, so perhaps there was the factor of youth at play here.

Col wished she would not be tempted into such a dark place, but he knew that was not territory he could step foot in.

He thought for a moment how he should respond, but in the end simply placed a gentle hand on her back.

Myuri looked up at him, and their eyes met.

Her large, red eyes seemed to glitter, even within the dimly lit library.

“Don’t make that face, Brother.” She flashed him a troubled smile then brought her face closer, squishing her cheek against his. “It’s not fair when you do that.”

“No, but—”

Something cut him off just as he was going to say something to the teasing Myuri.

She suddenly shivered, and her ears and tail vanished.

Not a second later, there came a knock at the door.

Myuri quickly stood from her chair, returned the book back to the shelf and retrieved a new one.

With no one else to do it, Col headed toward the door and opened it.

“Heir Hyland.”

“What’s the library like?”

Col stepped aside, and Hyland peeked into the room, sighing in fascination.

When Myuri turned in their direction, Hyland gave a small wave; Myuri looked away in a huff before offering a small wave in return.

“Heh-heh. Oh, do you have a moment, Col?”

“Yes.”

Before following Hyland’s gesture to step outside, Col turned back toward Myuri.

She was still looking down at a book, as though telling him he was free to do what he liked. Once the subject of the Moon-Hunting Bear came up, their interactions always became somewhat strained. Neither of them could comfortably settle the matter—it embodied the differences that separated human from nonhuman.

On the other hand, Col could tell that she also did not like him having a conversation alone with Hyland, and if her tail had been out, it would have nervously been twitching side to side.

A wry smile spread across his face, and he left the library.

“What is it?”

“Well…”

Col stepped out into the quiet corridor, closed the door behind him, and asked if Hyland had anything to report only to receive an ambiguous response.

“I went ahead and asked about the procedures for the official use of coats of arms, and…” Hyland seemed to hesitate, so Col finished her thought for her.

“Granting privileges to use a crest must have been too much of a hassle. That is unfortunate, but I will make sure to tell Myuri.”

It came out so easily perhaps because he felt relief from being freed from the distress over whether he should tell Lawrence about it or not.

But Hyland’s head whipped up.

“Oh, no, that’s not a problem. That’s all fine.”

“Is…is that so? I do think it makes sense that we would not be able to use a crest of a wolf in a kingdom whose founding myth is based on a sheep…”

When Hyland heard him say that, she laughed, her shoulders relaxing.

“I doubt that would be grounds for rejection. It wouldn’t be good if you raised a banner with a skull crest, though.”

For a moment, Col thought about how happy Myuri would be to see such a design.

“That’s all right, then.”

Then what was causing Hyland to hesitate?

He looked to her, and she sighed, as he thought she would, before speaking in defeat.

“There is no problem when it comes to me granting use privileges for a coat of arms. I can guarantee the authority of whatever crest you like under my name. But I started to feel unsure when the arms officer started asking me about the items required for the crest.”

That was not what Col had been expecting. Hyland then suddenly took a few steps away from the library doors and lowered her voice.

“It’s the relationship between the users of the crest.”

“…What do you mean?”

“They don’t mind if you use similar crests that are only ever so slightly different, but…if it’s completely the same, then apparently those sharing the crest will need some sort of official relationship.”

Col could do nothing but nod along, but it was clear that he did not quite comprehend what she meant.

So Hyland explained, “Coats of arms have authority, right? Which means if the people using the same crest go through some sort of split, then only one of them will inherit the crest. Detailed rules on who would be given priority in a situation like that, especially when the question of succession comes into play, have long since been established and are directly based on the laws of the ancient empire.”

It would certainly sow chaos if a whole family using the same crest suddenly started fighting for some reason, and then the mutually estranged family members started using the same crest without permission.

“Which brings up the question of your relationship with the young lady,” she said, which immediately made Col aware as to why Hyland was so troubled.

Painfully aware.

“I have heard that you and Myuri are not true siblings; is that so?”

“Yes…I worked at her home, and I have been taking care of her since she was born.”

“Which means, in a strict sense, a young lady employer and her servant. But two people of such a relationship using the same crest is, well, how do I put this…”

So it seemed the apparent immorality was not just Col’s imagination.

On the surface, all it would bring to mind was the implication of an illicit love affair.

“To be honest, when I went to report on the matter to the bathhouse back in Nyohhira, part of it felt somehow immoral to me…I thought it had been a good idea, but I fear I may have been careless.”

“No, I think it’s a truly wonderful idea. It’s not romantic love, nor are you family, but you have a bond stronger than any I’ve known. Such things do exist, and such things should exist. Even I thought that a crest only the two of you can use in the whole wide world as a symbol of your bond was a beautiful thing.”

Col could sense the sincerity in her statement, which meant that it also shared a problem just as deep.

“We could use the master and apprentice format, like the more famous artisan families.”

That would be much more easily accepted.

“But you’re not master and apprentice, are you?”

“I suppose you could also say tutor and pupil…”

“‘Pupil’ is a weak relationship when it comes to inheriting the crest.”

It was a complicated problem, but when Col saw how earnestly Hyland was thinking for their sake, he could not help but smile.

When Hyland noticed him smiling, she looked at him curiously.

“My apologies, I just…”

“Just what?” she asked in return, and Col decided to answer honestly.

“My apologies. I was just so happy that you are being so serious about this.”

Hyland blinked several times before angrily stating, “Of course I am. This is a serious matter to you, too, is it not?”

Her disgruntled attitude surprised him.

“I could come up with false descriptions all day. But this is supposed to represent your relationship with her. Why would I insert lies and falsehoods into that?”

She spoke with the conviction of someone explaining the most obvious of facts, like describing how the sun rises in the east or the sea being salty.

When Hyland noticed Col’s reaction, she cooled herself.

Guilty and embarrassed, she said, “I am sorry. It’s just such a lovely tale that I almost got lost in it.”

This confirmed once again to Col that he had met a wonderful person.

“I wish I could show the joy I felt in such a concrete manner.”

“Stop. That’s not it.” Hyland turned away and sighed. “I am embarrassingly moved by familial bonds because of the circumstances surrounding my own birth.”

She was, after all, the king’s illegitimate child.

Col fell silent, unable to say a word when he saw how tensely Hyland’s shoulders were drawn up in self-deprecation.

“Well, I suppose…I’m just letting you know I’m ready. If you can’t settle on a fitting relationship, then I can make it something safe, like master and apprentice,” Hyland said, using her hand to lightly fan her face, and looked out to the plaza beyond the barred window. “Good grief, I knew I would get hot in here, though. I’m going outside to catch some air. I suppose I’ll get us a seat at the Golden Fern, too.”

Col could not stop her—he simply bowed his head and saw her off.

Still, the main reason he could not come up with anything to say was because his head was occupied by something else entirely.

What was his relationship with Myuri?

They were not siblings, not lovers, nor were they master and apprentice.

He listed them one after another, but none quite hit the mark.

As he counted them off his fingers, that was when he first understood just how ambiguous and uncertain their relationship was.

They spent all their time together. Myuri had even put her life on the line for him, and he, too, fully planned to make good on his promise to be there for her for as long as he lived. Yet there was no term or name that properly described their relationship.

When he realized that, it felt like time had stopped in the empty stone corridor. It felt as if the passageway extended forever before and behind him, and though he held a key in his hand, it opened none of the doors.

That was when it dawned on him that this was what Myuri’s unease felt like.

A place for her to rest, a place of peace—though she had the key that should lead there, she had no idea which door it would open. All she had to rely on was a promise she had once heard.

He now knew why Myuri said she liked him as a man, yet could not stop calling him “Brother”—that was one of the very few remaining threads she could tangibly grasp.

When they were sitting before the cathedral, he had suggested a crest in an almost casual manner. All he had been cognizant of was that Myuri would certainly rejoice—a little gift to soothe the guilt he felt. But it had carried unbelievable significance.

To Myuri, the crest was surely the sign on the door.

One she had finally spotted after wandering the same cold, stone halls for ages.

Col’s duty was to scatter petals along the path to the door.

“But…”

What was he to do?

As he stood alone in the quiet, stone corridor, he wished he could lose himself in the scripture.