In front of the watching commoner-born cavalry, Macaran—noble scion that he was—shouted at me.

“My justice is to uphold order! However turbulent the world becomes, one’s deeds must be bound by order and mercy!”

…Much more of a soldier than I am. The well-born can spout lofty ideals and actually mean them.
But maybe it’s precisely those who can believe in such pretty words that can make the world a better place.

So I gave him a smile.

“Good. You haven’t changed since that day. I’m relieved.”

“P-please, stop…”

Red to the ears. Cute kid. Compared to him, I’m already an old man—if you count my past life too—so his purity feels blinding.