What would land on the sea be like? Would it truly feel the same as the ground she stood on now? Would it not be mud that swallowed her feet whole? Would the same flowers and grass that grew inside the castle grow there too? Would the trees there also be tall and solid? Would they bend easily, heavy with water? It was a place shrouded in mystery, with no one who truly knew it, and yet were there really people living there.

Ilion was an island nation and a closed one at that, so almost nothing was known about its culture or customs, and no outsiders came and went from it. The nine nations that existed now had all originally split from a single country, so the fact that they shared the same language was about the extent of what was known about Ilion.

Do the people there speak like me, and look like me?

“Well…… I wonder if we ever will.”

Yes. There had been a time when she was curious about all of those things.

Will it ever actually happen in my lifetime, seeing that island with my own eyes?

Two years was a small age gap, but when she considered that her entire life so far had not yet filled even sixteen years, two years was a significant difference for them. The hopes and expectations that fourteen-year-old Heil carried were the same ones Pamona had held when she was fourteen.

But in the time it took a child of fourteen to turn sixteen and slowly shed the traces of childhood, the world had been built up and torn down more than once.

Pamona had believed that as she grew older, she would learn swordsmanship like the princes, study various subjects under a rotation of tutors throughout the day, and ride horses on mounts that grew larger and larger. But from the time she entered her teens, the swelling dreams she had carried were erased and folded away one by one. They had been foolish dreams.

As it turned out, the reason she could not do any of those things was not her young age. At some point she came to understand that there were far too many things she would never be able to do unless she was born again, and she accepted it.

She no longer wished for what could not be. It was not that she did not wish for it because she did not want it. She had resolved not to wish for it anymore because she had no heart left to hurt.

Pamona, born a princess, had never set so much as a single foot outside the Royal Palace, had never even let her shadow fall beyond it. Someday, when she married and followed her husband out of the Royal Palace, that day would be both her first time leaving and her departure from her family home.

From then on, she would spend the rest of her life within her husband’s domain. Moving from her father’s land to her husband’s land. Going from being called someone’s daughter to being called someone’s wife. A future she had never wanted already waited for her somewhere far ahead.

“Your Highness.”

Just then, a servant’s voice came from outside the door. She lifted the bell and gave it one ring, and the door opened and the servant entered.

“Your Highness, an official bearing a royal decree requests an audience.”

“Show him in.”

At her permission, the servant brought the official inside. The official first bowed deeply to Pamona in greeting. The sudden arrival of a decree struck her as strange, but Pamona and Heil rose from their seats to show proper respect for the king’s decree.

“Your Highness, I deliver the royal decree.”

“Heil is present. May she hear it as well?”

“Yes, Your Highness. This decree has been issued to every castle within the Royal Palace.”

“Very well then.”

Pamona and Heil clasped their hands together and turned their attention to the official. Before long, the official unrolled the royal decree and began to convey the king’s command.

“Basel III of the Masiode royal family, sovereign of Masion. A royal decree. Receive it.”

“We receive it.”

Pamona and Heil answered.

“Pamona Masiode, firstborn daughter of Basel III of the Masiode royal family, sovereign of Masion. Hear this.”

“I receive it.”

“Heil Masiode, second daughter of Basel III of the Masiode royal family, sovereign of Masion. Hear this.”

“I receive it.”

“As the fate of the nation moves to fulfill its will, we hereby declare that the war has come to an end. Let the Royal Palace prepare to celebrate this victory and joyfully welcome home the sons of the nation upon their return.”

Before the official, who read the royal decree with solemnity, the two of them exchanged a glance. The war had felt almost like something happening in another country entirely, so distant from their lives. They had received no news of it whatsoever, and the sudden declaration of its end made their heads turn without thinking.

“Let nothing be lacking in proclaiming the strength and prosperity of Masion and in washing the blood from its sons. Honor the souls of its honorable sons, and when the bride has come of age, her lord shall take his crown princess. Celebrate the royal marriage of Sionel Masiode, firstborn son of the royal family and Crown Prince.”

Sionel, Pamona’s brother, had been engaged four years ago. His betrothed had been sixteen at the time, a young age for a betrothal ceremony, but the king and the girl’s family had been firm in their wishes and it had gone forward.

She would be twenty now, which meant she was already of age in formal terms, and by Masion’s traditions she would become truly of age once her birthday had passed. The decree meant they would now proceed with the marriage.

With the war over, there was no longer any reason to delay the Crown Prince’s wedding. Sionel was already twenty-five. It would be a somewhat early marriage for his betrothed, but it was said that for a woman, the earlier the marriage the better.

“Furthermore, in bringing the war to its end and leading Masion to victory, the contribution of Sir Ian Dnie, firstborn son of House Dnie, the Sword of Masion, stands supremely distinguished. In recognition of his merit, one of the five western provinces of the territory won in blood shall be granted as a duchy.”

“……”

“When the royal marriage is concluded and the season of celebration has passed, the firstborn daughter of Masiode and the firstborn son of Dnie shall be betrothed, ushering in another season of celebration.”

What?

Pamona felt for a moment as though something inside her had broken down.

The firstborn daughter of Masiode and the firstborn son of Dnie……

“In the year Pamona Masiode comes of age, this royal marriage shall be bestowed as a grace.”

The official went on reciting the royal decree for some time after that, but Pamona did not hear it. Heil stood beside her, watching her persistently in hopes of catching her eye. But Pamona’s gaze would not leave the decree. She did not know what it was that rang and rang in her ears.

Yes. It was something that would come someday. She had already known which family names were being spoken of as candidates for her husband. She had known that House Dnie stood apart from all the rest. 

But there was a vast gap between knowing something and it becoming real. Pamona realized that what she had believed she knew, she had not truly known at all.

The more brutal the war became, the more often Reynard had spoken the name Ian Dnie. He had frequented the Royal Palace since childhood, and his family’s name carried great honor, so she had known he was very likely to be connected to her. She had even thought, with some awareness of the situation, that if he returned safely from the war, a betrothal with herself, the firstborn princess, might come to pass.

“Receive it.”

She had also known that no one would ask her wishes. She had known that one day she would be informed out of nowhere of a betrothal to someone. She had known all of it.

“……I receive it.”

She had known all of it. And yet. Even so. This. Not like this.

She had believed that her sixteen-year-old self had no dreams left that could not be folded away, no heart left that could be hurt. It had all been a mistake.

* * *

“Heil.”

Heil had come to the Twin Castle on nearly every one of the past four years’ worth of days. It was not solely because of Pamona. Heil genuinely loved tending the garden. Every time she came, she stopped by the garden, picked out dead leaves, watered what needed watering, turned the soil, and checked carefully for any spots where insects had gathered.

Stepping into the garden that had grown on Heil’s devotion, the air felt different from anywhere else. The lush plants seemed to have grown taller than when she had first come here. It was certain that a few more varieties of flowers had appeared since then. She could not have missed it, given how anxiously Heil had tended to it with each change of season.

“Do you know the name of this one too?”

Pamona pointed to the short trees that ringed the entire garden and asked.

“That’s a Blue Root tree.”

Heil confirmed it with just a glance, then went back to mixing something into the soil with her gloved hands as she answered. She had said she knew the names of every plant in this place. Pamona had thought she was simply tending them because she liked the look of them, but it seemed she was studying them as well, putting in more effort than Pamona had realized.

It was no boast, it turned out, because she named each one the moment she was asked. She seemed more surprised, if anything, that Pamona did not know the name of a single thing in the garden.

“These trees are still quite young. That one large tree over there is the only one that was already well-grown when it was brought and transplanted here. When a Blue Root tree grows large, its once-solid trunk becomes soft and supple. After that, some of the branches begin to droop down toward the ground. You take a few of those branches, which are tougher than rope, and weave them together to make a swing like that one.”

Where Heil pointed, a single tree stood tall on its own. A swing hung from it, and Pamona sometimes sat on it and kicked her feet.

But she had never looked closely at what the swing was actually made of, and she hadn’t known even while touching it. Pamona simply found it remarkable that Heil knew all of this.

“Do you know that one too?”

It was a small red berry dangling from among the bushes. It was too small to be called a proper fruit and didn’t look like something edible, but she didn’t know what else to call it. Heil giggled.

“I do. Shall I tell you?”