Chapter 1 : Beyond the orchard

It was an unusually hot day, with the sun beating down.

Bachmann, a city located in the northwestern part of the Kingdom of Rosen, had been bustling all day as if a festival had been held. There was more excitement than when the kingdom’s army won a victory at the end of a long war.

Rows and rows of brick buildings were draped with red floral bunting, symbolizing reverence and admiration, and the central square with its large stone fountain was crowded with flower-bearing citizens. The crowds stretched to Bachmann Central Station.

Instead of flowers, Lieselotte Brennan was the only one hastening her steps with a shabby basket under her arm.

“Excuse me. Please let me through.”

Her soft voice was quickly drowned out by the murmur that filled the square. She struggled to push her way through the crowd, which was reluctant to move aside.

Having spent most of her life on a countryside estate, Liese was not used to crowded city centers. She hunched her shoulders in frustration as barrels banged against each other.

Her neatly pressed straw hat was knocked off by someone’s hand. Instead of fixing her hat, she clutched the basket tightly in her arms as she walked. She couldn’t afford to spill food when she had to save every penny.

If her stubborn grandfather had seen this, he might have clicked his tongue. A few apples and fluffy rye bread would have been more important to her than the finery of a nobleman.

A month ago, Liese would have agreed.

But right now, she needed at least one person to get down to earth—someone who knew some things had to be prioritized over bells and whistles.

Liese knew it had to be her.

“A family is made up of people, after all.”

Her grandfather’s face loomed over the stolen mansion. It was a face that reflected a steadfast determination that belied his muffled voice.

“As long as people don’t fall, families will never fall.”

Liese nodded at his words of hope.

But the only people left in the fallen Viscount Brennan family were her crippled grandfather, her younger brother Charlie, who attended a small school, and Liese, who had just come of age.

“Uh…!”

Liese stumbled through the crowd as she tried to drown out her suddenly growing anxiety. She lost her balance and fell hard on the stone floor.

The apples in her basket rolled across the floor. Liese quickly scooped up the apples, ignoring her aching knees.

No one paid any attention to the petite woman on the ground. She was glad no one had landed on her as she dodged their steps.

What was all the fuss about?

With a sigh, she wrapped her head in her hands, and, as if in response, a black and white sheet of paper fluttered down in front of her.

“Hooray!”

A kid in a maroon hat ran across the square, scattering the papers. His gaze was drawn downward like a magnet.

The return of the hero who conquered the central continent.

The headline on the front page was big and simple. It was then that she realized the source of the moody air that had been sweeping across Bachmann.

Today was the return of the Duke of Balthasar from a series of victory ceremonies in the capital.

Balthasar, whose family had served in the army for generations and had earned great pride and honor, was a force to be reckoned with. Some publicly claimed that the family held greater authority than the royal house of Rosen.

Duke Balthasar was the hero of this long war, and Bachmann was his domain. Even in the countryside, where there was little contact with the outside world, his name had been heard a few times.

The young duke had left his estate before his prime and was now returning with his accomplishments as a military commander. She could understand the crowd’s desire to catch a glimpse of his vehicle. So this commotion was nothing new.

Nevertheless, it had nothing to do with Liese.

She couldn’t afford to be impressed by the lights, the singing, and the confetti falling overhead in honor of the Duke’s military service.

What did she have to do with the great nobleman who ruled Rosen in the first place?

If there was any connection at all, it was that the mere rumor of his return had shaken the entire region into a frenzy, making Liese’s day more difficult.

Her gaze dropped to the bruised apple, a little sullen.

“… Such a fool.”

Shaking her head, Liese brushed off her knees and stood up. She folded up the newspaper that had fallen to the floor and stuffed it into her basket. She thought of her grandfather, who would be cowering in his cramped house amid the crisis.

The black-and-white photo beneath the headline failed to catch her eyes.

Leaving the central square, Liese climbed a steep white brick road. She turned onto a small path on one side of the hill, and soon a small orchard spread out over a tiny plain came into view. The light scent of fresh apple blossoms tickled her nose in the breeze. Liese’s steps lightened a bit as she saw the white blossoms on the branches.

At the end of the path, flanked on either side by apple trees, was a dilapidated two-story bungalow. The paint was peeling and the hinges were rusting, but the green roof was charming; it was the new home of the Brennan family.

“I’m home, Grandpa!”

Liese said cheerfully as she pushed open the creaky wooden door. She placed the basket on the kitchen table, still too high for her to reach, and took off her hat.

“Lieselotte, are you here at last?”

A gruff old man’s voice rang out from the bedroom at the end of the hallway. A graying, white-haired man appeared, pushing a wheelchair.

“I thought you’d be here before lunch, but you’re late.”

“The town’s been a bit busy; there’s a rush everywhere, so I’m a bit late.”

“Did something happen?”

“Apparently a famous nobleman is returning to Bachmann, a commander who has done some decisive work in this war.”

“Hmm.”

Brennan gave a short sigh. Having fought in the war in his youth, he had a particular fondness for soldiers who had achieved martial success.

“It looks like a celebration has taken place. Even when a soldier waves a flag and returns home, there will be revelry in all directions because a noble and heroic man has returned.”

“They all looked very happy. Here, this is today’s newspaper.”

Liese handed her grandfather the newspaper she had brought from the square. Brennan slowly put on his glasses and opened the paper.

“I’ve done all the urgent things. I’ve registered our place of residence and enrolled Charlie in the primary school near the square. They said it would be processed in a few days, so Charlie will be able to go to school soon.”

“Good job, Liese. I’m sure you’re hungry; would you like some soup?”

There was a pot of soup in the kitchen that the nanny, Joanna, had made. Although there wasn’t much left over, it was clearly a very tasty soup.

Mrs. Joanna had traveled all the way from out of town to help, despite the family’s situation. How grateful she was for the nanny’s goodwill at a time when she needed every extra hand.

Even now, she’s probably upstairs tutoring Charlie in the basics.

“It’s all right, I’m not hungry. It would be nice if we all ate together when Charlie and Mrs. Joanna came down for dinner.”

“That is a good idea. … Hmm, it was Balthasar after all. The bright young duke can be a dazzler.”

Brennan was reading the newspaper and muttered as he pushed up his glasses with his index finger. Liese, who had opened the kitchen window, looked out at the front garden, which was full of apple trees.

“Now we have to start tending the orchard in earnest. We have to harvest the apples before they are fully in bloom. We also need to prune the branches in some places.”

“That’s a shame; I loved seeing the trees in full bloom.”

“Me too.”

The white apple blossoms and the fragrance that surrounded them helped Liese feel at home in the strange new land and settle in more quickly.

But to have a healthy harvest, it was necessary to pick beautiful flowers and fruits. This orchard would be the cornerstone of the Brennan family’s revival.

It was a sanctuary given to them by their grandfather’s long-time friend when they were forced to leave the country’s estate. He had given them his villa, saying he owed Brennan’s father a great debt.

It was in the Bachmann region of the northwest, a place as prosperous as the capital. It was said to be a quiet house on a hill, not far from the central square, which was as busy as it should be. There was also an orchard in the front yard that they had cultivated as a hobby, which was old but suitable for a new start.

“I’m so glad he was right.”

Having arrived with the stigma and sadness of being a fallen aristocrat, she had a dramatic opportunity to recover. The loss of her home, which held a lifetime of memories, and the confiscation of her possessions did not mean that she had lost everything in the world. She was fortunate to have retained the title so cherished by her grandfather.

Liese looked out over the orchard in the cool sunlight. The green leaves of the apple trees swaying in the breeze mirrored her own eyes.

“What are all those apples for?”

A voice suddenly interrupted her reverie. Brennan was behind her, rummaging through the apples in the basket. Liese let out a short “Ah” in surprise.

“I stopped at all the popular greengrocers in the marketplace and bought one for each of us. I thought it would be nice to get a taste of the apples from the other orchards, in case we’re going to be supplying them. Of course, they are also good to eat after meals.”

“Heh heh! Liese is as competitive as I am. I thought I’d eaten enough apples to get sick of them, but why not?”