In her past life, she had been to similar events like night markets and lantern festivals a few times, but since there had been no occasion for street festivals in her current life, having grown up like a flower in a greenhouse, she surveyed the streets with a somewhat unfamiliar feeling.

Perhaps because it was near affluent neighborhoods, even though it was a street festival, there were no ruffians or beggars. Rather, there were several people who seemed to have ‘I am nobility’ written all over their bodies. And security maintenance teams and knights were watching the vicinity with blazing eyes. Well, if any harm came to someone from an influential family in this chaos, sparks would obviously fly everywhere.

She had some concern about whether her appearance would stand out, but the proportion of people who came out to enjoy the festival while still wearing masks was higher than expected. Thanks to that, she felt somewhat relieved. They would probably look like just two ordinary people who had come out to the streets after enjoying a masquerade ball.

Was coming out to the night street festival a choice befitting a romance fantasy novel male lead? Then would they encounter some ruffians according to cliché? She scattered such trivial thoughts. Well, since she wasn’t even a female lead like Mélisande, why would they?

After looking around at some accessories placed on street stalls, she lost interest. Though they were moderately pretty as souvenirs, they would be troublesome to deal with later. Fake gems made of glass break easily, and if they scratched real gems after being put in a jewelry box, it would be a headache.

“Is there anything that catches your fancy?”

“Not particularly right now.”

Lysander, who had been showing off his young-and-rich male lead moment saying to tell him anytime if there was anything she wanted, purchased two flattened lanterns from the stall. Suddenly, why lanterns? When she expressed her question, Lysander smiled and came close.

“In the region where I grew up as a child, there’s a story that if you float lanterns down the river during the founding festival period, your wishes will come true.”

Following his whispering low voice, blood seemed to rush to her ears.

Tch, this was an unavoidable physiological phenomenon. Since such superior genes were performing flirting-like behavior beside her, the evolutionary biological genetic factors within her were instinctively responding. Without knowing it, her mind was watering another flower of self-rationalization.

“It’s a tradition I haven’t been able to participate in for a while, but this time I’d like you to join me, Alix.”

Wishes, that’s quite romantic, isn’t it? That much was fine. She readily nodded and followed him.

It was when the noisy night street scene was fading distantly.

“Oh my, how pretty.”

The bound black horse turned its head. Smooth black fur like polished ebony. The white spot on its head looked like where a unicorn’s horn would have been.

“Argos.”

When Lysander reached out and lowered the reins, the black horse dignifiedly bowed its head. She felt favorable toward the horse’s gentle appearance without a trace of wildness. The black horse that had been docile even when Lysander first helped her mount remained calm, but as soon as its master mounted, it began to run as if flying.

The surrounding scenery seemed to pass quickly by her side. Cool night air brushed her face. The scent of night foliage felt while running through forest paths was completely different from that of daytime.

Though she wasn’t scared, perhaps worried she might fall from the horse, Lysander wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She could feel his pulse beating beneath the firm arm that embraced her.

Just as she was feeling his pulse, what if he also felt her racing heart right now?

She hoped he would think this heartbeat was merely the tension of a lady encountering a forest path at night. Or perhaps the thrill of feeling such mad speed for the first time.

The horse began to slow down. The place they arrived at after passing through the forest was a quiet riverside. A branch of the Sirelir River, hidden among dense trees.

While tree branches embracing the night’s hem rustled, the river water flowed leisurely. The cry of a night bird could be heard from afar. How did he know of such a place?

Lysander, who handed her a candle, lit a match with familiar hands and brightened the flame. After first lighting her candle, Lysander brought his candle to hers and transferred the flame. It was fortunate she was wearing a mask. There was no worry of being caught with heat rising to her cheeks every time their fingertips brushed.

Lysander carefully placed a lantern on the river water. She watched the act carefully and followed suit.

Watching the pair of lanterns flowing leisurely, she seemed to feel an inexplicable sense of loss. It was like sending off stars in a dream. When night disappears, one must wake from sweet dreams. Even if one tries to turn away, stars eventually set and the time comes to greet morning.

“You can make a wish in your heart.”

At Lysander’s words, she suddenly returned to reality. Right. A wish. What wish should she make?

She didn’t seriously think this act would grant wishes, but didn’t they say earnest prayers could change the world?

What was her wish? Family, Mélisande, Elene, the imperial palace……

Various things surrounding her flashed through her mind.

The answer that would come out if she gathered the various strands passing by and wove them into a net to cast into the sea of her mind.

Happiness.

She hoped her people would be happy.

Even if it was impossible not to hurt each other, she hoped they wouldn’t be forever unhappy because of those wounds. That they could dust themselves off and get up even after experiencing pain. Like reeds that bend but don’t break when they meet rain,

That when the sun rises, they could smile while reminiscing about painful memories.

Please let my people meet their respective happy endings.

She raised her head while praying in her heart. Suddenly looking to the side, Lysander was waiting for her.

The mask had been removed at some point, and among the stars embedded in the night sky that seemed ready to pour down, the sparkle of amethyst-colored pupils was vivid. Following his gesture, she sat beside him as if enchanted.

“Do you remember the day I first met you?”

She blinked at the sudden words. When was that?

It was the day Mélisande first entered the court. Only about half a year had passed in terms of time, but she didn’t know why it felt like such a long time had passed.

When she nodded slightly, he smiled.

“At that time, you told me your name. And I decided to dedicate all the glory of victory to that name.”

Was that still valid?

“Originally, when dedicating the glory of victory, it’s customary to bring the head of the enemy commander to those hands.”

In a tone as casual as saying he would pick flowers from a garden, it took some time to realize that those words meant he would bring someone’s severed head. Seeing her look disgusted, Lysander continued.

“But I thought you wouldn’t want that.”

He took out a small box from his chest. It was a box covered in velvet. When Lysander opened the flat box with his long fingers, what the box contained was revealed with a clicking sound.

What was inside was a necklace.

The gem shining in the center resembled the color of a mysterious night sea embracing moonlight. Diamonds embedded throughout the chain emitted transparent brilliance.

“It’s cordelite.”

Cordelite, called the gem of the sea.

Even she had only heard the name and was seeing the actual gem for the first time. Would there be one or two in the empress’s jewelry box? She was at a loss for words at the mysterious brilliance, and Lysander continued in a low voice.

“In this war, the enemy nation Vizern has declared they will not retreat until they recapture the Labuye region. Do you know why? Because cordelite only comes from Labuye.”

Cordelite. The seed of this war.

Its unique mysterious luster was incomparable to other gems. One poet called cordelite the tears of the sea queen.

According to Vizern’s founding myth, a knight who inherited the holy relic left by a saint founded Vizern, and that holy relic was the Urim and Thummim carved from cordelite the size of a fist.

After that, the Vizern royal family treated cordelite as a symbol and held it sacred. And the only region where cordelite was found was Labuye. Though even mining tens of thousands of raw stones would yield an amount barely the size of a chestnut.

Hundreds of years later, Princess Adelaide of Vizern, who had inheritance rights to Labuye, fled to the Lamuah imperial family to escape assassination threats from her half-brother and ex-husband, and Labuye passed to Lamuah territory. Later, Adelaide’s great-grandson became the first Grand Duke Nicerion, and it naturally became the Grand Duchy of Nicerion.

Though it was something that happened over 500 years ago, so what meaning would mentioning it now have, apparently Vizern didn’t think so. In fact, several times, there had been kings of Vizern who claimed ownership of Labuye among successive rulers. However, they had backed down at the threat of excommunication from the Pope who sided with the Lamuah Empire at the time (the influence of temples and holy kingdoms was incomparably greater then than now).

Anyway, setting that aside, the act of offering an enemy commander’s head to one’s lady. The origin of this custom was as follows.

A mockery toward the enemy saying ‘I will take your most important thing and give it to my woman,’ and a declaration of war meaning that anyone who harms her will face incomparable retaliation.

A cordelite necklace would have roughly equivalent value to an enemy commander’s head in terms of ‘offering the glory of war victory to a lady.’ Especially if that opponent was Vizern.

“As one who has become your knight, I beseech you, please accept it.”