“Your Excellency, there were no particular anomalies in the letters from Duke Sisana or Lady Sisana.”

Louis reported calmly.

The man’s gaze remained fixed on the map of Rom spread across the desk, but his mouth opened to issue another command.

“Open the window.”

Louis walked to the window without asking twice. The intense smell of burning fire filled the air behind him.

The current Duke of Chelsiers’ power was <possession>.

He branded with fire to manifest his power, and once he imprinted a mark, he could track it as if looking directly at it.

Or he could destroy it.

Today, somewhere in Duke Sisana’s residence, ashes would be found. Such occurrences had become somewhat rare lately.

“Do you think there might be some ulterior motive?”

“Charlotte said that Her Majesty the Empress mentioned that Duke Sisana seems to be interested in Eciel.”

“… I will investigate further.”

Duke Sisana was a person who wouldn’t pay attention to anyone other than Astariol.

If such a person were interested in Eciel instead of Claire, it was a sign that something was either going wrong or about to go wrong.

There was even a faint sound of laughter from behind, chillingly.

“I have fulfilled my obligations, so I thought the day would soon come when she would fulfill her last duty… but she still seems to be in very good health.”

A surge of heat came through the open window, but Louis, on the contrary, slightly curled his toes as if standing on ice.

Had the speaker not been Astariol, and the listener not his vassal, either would surely have been dragged to the Great Hall for blasphemy.

The precarious silence was broken by a strong and distinct flapping sound.

“Ah.”

Louis expressed a short admiration.

It was always wondrous to see something historically known coming alive before his eyes, no matter how many times he saw it.

Fermata entered through the open window and perched on its master’s shoulder.

The eyes of the man who dealt with powers expressed through fire, eyes staring into living flames, remained calm and impassive.

“His Highness the Crown Prince wishes to see you. Will you go?”

The dry, serene voice matched his cool and tranquil eyes.

The phoenix, though made of fire and needing no such grooming, pecked at its feathers, seemingly ignoring the man.

“If you visit His Highness, I will spend only two days at the Great Hall this year.”

Golden eyes sparkled.

The ancient creature, which had long been dormant in the Great Hall, disliked the place as much as its master did. It would return, when necessary, but that was all.

Until now, Duke Chelsiers had always had <unavoidable circumstances> that forced him to endure at least a week there, but this year was different.

As he promised, he would be able to leave after just two days.

The phoenix tilted its head, chirped a few melodious notes, and settled down.

A strange light sparkled under the slowly lowering eyelids of the duke.

“No… you don’t have to.”

Duke Chelsiers’ voice sank low and soft.

“Charlotte would dislike it.”

The man raised a hand to stroke the creature’s golden beak and shimmering back. The phoenix, draped in a faint glow, sang like a constellation of stars.

The mystical creature, like a shard of the sun, wrapped in multi-colored flames, made the duke appear more distant and unreachable than usual.

Unable to endure the surreal and dreamlike scene, Louis turned his gaze away.

The more intensely beautiful something was, the less beneficial it was to gaze at it for too long.

After playing with its master’s hair and clothes for a while, the phoenix seemed to grow bored and flew away, pushing off from his shoulder.

Lowering his gaze, the duke instructed.

“My daughters are with me, so go to them now. Don’t play around trying to burn anything.”

The phoenix gave a long, drawn-out cry and flew off gracefully through the open window.

“Now close the window.”

The late summer heat remained, and the embers left behind by the phoenix crackled as they slowly died down in the afternoon.

Mechanically closing the window, Louis took a long, deep breath. The burnt smell, which should have dissipated by now, seemed to linger in his nostrils.

Finally, unable to hold back, he asked.

“Your Excellency, what did Fermata say?”

The purple eyes curved into a gentle smile.

He had grown up seeing those eyes since he was not even ten years old.

In his immature and naive days, he once foolishly thought of this person as his brother.

The boy who didn’t know how to smile grew up to smirk cynically, and as he matured into a tall young man, such irreverent feelings had long since faded… but still, Louis knew Ashel.

Not everything, but at least the time Ashel had given him.

Ashel spoke very slowly and gently to the young man who could barely breathe, much less speak.

“You know.”

Louis closed his eyes in pain.

The fact that the phoenix, unconcerned with human laws, morals, or guilt, asked whether it should burn the Crown Prince would be buried in his grave.

“… didn’t you reconcile?”

The answer came cheerfully.

“I’m glad it seemed that way. The children will think so too.”

Then, as if contemplating for a moment, the man asked a careful question.

“Do you think Charlotte will think the same?”

“… excuse me?”

“If someone makes Charlotte and Eciel cry, or forces Claire, do you think I could get along with that person?”

“…”

“I hope not.”

Just as all cometary orbits returned to the sun, Charlotte Yerim was at the center of this man’s world, no matter what he said or thought.

Ashel whispered with a bright and gentle expression.

“If Charlotte doesn’t know, we must let her know, right?”

Louis barely managed to speak.

“I’m sure she already knows.”

Ashel nodded happily. Thus, Louis was left knowing nothing.

Should he fear that Ashel’s fuse had increased to three, or be glad that he now had three people to make an effort to appear good to?

 

* * *

 

The correspondence with the Crown Prince and Lady Sisana continued steadily, albeit slowly.

On the day Fermata arrived, Eciel had asked our father for Fermata’s consent and used the phoenix as a carrier pigeon to send a letter to Callen.

It was only for a day, but Callen’s reply, with its elegant handwriting and polite wording, was filled with evident joy and excitement, bringing a smile to anyone who read it.

Of course, the letters exchanged with Lady Sisana were much drier in comparison.

Anyone could write a letter following proper etiquette and format, but writing a letter that flowed naturally like a conversation was a different skill.

It was certainly more in the realm of Eciel and Callen than Lady Sisana and me.

“I can’t write well yet. Since I write similarly to His Highness the Crown Prince, if I have to write in my handwriting, I want to write to His Highness.”

“… then what about me?”

“There’s only one person left. You’re good at math, why are you like this?”

“You said we should share the pain since we’re twins.”

“Sorry, my memory’s not good. When did I say that?”

“…”

What should I have said here?

I swore by Fermata, Callen wrote a hundred times better than Eciel.

And saying Eciel and Callen’s handwriting was similar was blasphemy deserving punishment.

In any case, I ended up starting unwanted correspondence with Lady Sisana.

With nothing to say, the content became short, and as the content shortened, the letter became a card, making etiquette and format meaningless.

Thus, ten days before going to the Great Hall.

A most indifferent question arrived.

[Are you coming alone?]

If someone saw it, they might think we were close, given the bold brevity of the message.

And I swore by Fermata again, we were not close at all. We couldn’t be in such a relationship to begin with.

But Eciel, blinking, picked up the card and examined it, then asked in disbelief.

“Are you close with her?”

“I’m glad to say no.”

“It really seems like you are? Look, she only sent a card. Her words are very curt!”

“We have nothing to say to each other.”

“What will you reply?”

“No.”

“… really?”

“Yes.”

“Write it in front of me.”

If that was what you wanted…

I wrote [No.] on the card and gave it to Edna, who was waiting beside me. She would mail it there for me.

Even though I did as she wished, Eciel looked dejected.

She murmured in frustration.

“If I knew she would be like that, I would have exchanged letters with her…”

“…”

“His Highness the Crown Prince’s letters come too often… it’s hard to write long ones with proper etiquette… it’s difficult to phrase them formally… I wish he were busier, but he doesn’t seem to be.”

Normally, I would have warned her not to speak carelessly, but I let it slide this time.

The next card arrived six days ago.

[Then who are you coming with?]

[Dad.]

The next card arrived three days ago.

[Why do you call him Dad?]

It seemed not worth answering, so I didn’t reply. I was sorry, but one should develop a habit of keeping idle talks to oneself.

Then, the day before yesterday, I heard the final card arrived.

[What does your father call you?]

Amazingly composed of five whole words.

I said <heard> because… I didn’t see the card myself. My father, having seen it by chance, laughed heartily and wrote a reply to her himself.

It was likely the sender’s fault for not including an envelope, but to take on my moral responsibility, I ordered a bunch of silver hydrangea flowers.

I considered sending back the one I had received previously, but it seemed like it would lead to a fight if I tried to apologize, so I didn’t.

Since Leah Fawcett promised to complete it as soon as possible, I should receive it before traveling to the territory.