“If you could just point me in the right direction, I would be grateful.”

The child looked no older than eight or so, and was a little cheeky about it.

“I am telling you, you cannot get there on foot. Do you have money for a carriage?”

“Y, yes I do. My mother was buried in the cemetery there the day before yesterday, and I want to go back and visit her myself!”

The manner was composed, but that only made it more heartbreaking.

The knight, at a loss for words, asked again.

“You want to go there alone, without any adults?”

The child glanced back at the residence behind and explained.

“I did not want to be a bother. Everyone there is sadder than I am.”

As the child spoke, the soft, colorful wild flowers swayed mournfully against the black mourning clothes.

Perhaps it was how pitiable the sight was. Andrea murmured before he realized it.

“They will wilt.”

“Pardon?”

“By the time you get there, those flowers will all be wilted.”

The child looked slightly surprised, then smiled. It was a clear, guileless smile.

“That is all right. I just want to lay them in front of the grave so Mother will not feel lonely.”

That answer sounded even sadder. In the end, Andrea did something entirely unlike himself.

He leaned down, scooped the child up with one arm, and set the child in front of him on the saddle.

A little while later, unbelievably, he was galloping down the hillside road with a small child seated before him.

He could come up with plenty of excuses in his own mind.

So as not to be late for the victory ceremony about to begin.

Or, setting aside the fact that there was something about this child that tugged at him, the Sistine Cathedral happened to be on his way.

But even after delivering the child, he could not simply ride on.

His eyes were held by the child, who kept circling and circling the grave long after laying the flowers down.

The child’s expression was subdued, but what was strange and curious was that not a single tear fell.

Perhaps it was the relief of seeing the child then act up childishly, declaring a sudden wish to go to the capital too.

He ended up putting the child on his saddle again.

The soft hair that blew in the wind and tickled his chin the whole way made him feel oddly unsettled.

The child pressed their back flat against his chest, apparently riding a horse for the first time, and there seemed to be a fresh, wild-flower scent coming off them, which only made it worse.

The child kept turning to look at everything along the way with wide, curious eyes, and Andrea asked without thinking.

“You did not cry.”

He had meant it as a compliment, something like, good for a boy, but the child answered with a certain pride.

“I made a promise not to stand over the ground and cry for a long time, because Mother has gone up to heaven. I even made a pinky promise to be brave and strong.”

Andrea looked down at the child, who put such emphasis on the words brave and strong.

Not knowing whether to say you are a good child or that is a fine thought, he said nothing at all.

Later, arriving at the square in Tennetcy alive with the victory celebration, the child came fully back to life.

Running after the military band playing fifes and drums, and marveling at the traveling merchants selling curious wares, the child was delighted.

The attending knight watched Andrea idly following the child around and grew concerned.

“Your Highness, you are aware there is a ceremony today?”

As a cadet and royal who had helped lead the war to victory through frontline support, Andrea was to march through the triumphal arch. After that, he had a number of official ceremonies to carry out, including receiving the high priest’s blessing.

Even so, he said it on impulse.

“Tell them I could not make it. Have someone stand in for me.”

He gave the order to his stunned attendant knight without a second thought.

“Oh, and bring me one of the commemorative emblems from the ceremony.”

Having skipped the official ceremony entirely, Andrea spent that day trailing behind the child as the child chased after every procession in sight. Rather than receiving cheers and performing formalities, he wandered among the common people and enjoyed himself.

Then the child received the Royal Knights’ commemorative emblem from him and went wide-eyed.

Being a child, there were no questions about how he had obtained it or why he was giving it away. The child simply jumped for joy.

“Wow! This looks just like the cloak ornament of the Royal Knights!”

At this point, surely a who are you? was in order.

Andrea was only sixteen himself, so the thought crossed his mind, but he kept quiet.

The attendant knights were put out at being made to act as nursemaids to a strange child out of nowhere, but no one could stop the crown prince, who would soon be leading the knights himself, from his spontaneous detour.

In any case, Andrea followed the child in mourning clothes at an easy pace.

And in doing so, he noticed something peculiar.

The things the child was drawn to were, for the most part…… the sort of things girls liked.

At the toy shop, the child lingered longer in front of the princess dolls than the wooden swords or shields, and showed more interest in the ladies’ hat shops.

Andrea’s brow gradually furrowed.

Other boys were transfixed by the knights’ gleaming uniforms or their tall, tightly laced boots, so why was this one standing rapt in front of the fairy parade of all things?

The child even reached out to brush a fingertip against the fluttering chiffon skirt of one of the fairies.

“Boy. Have you had your fill of the knights’ march already?”

The child answered with a prim air.

“I can see knights at home every day.”

That was fair enough for a child from a noble household, and Andrea accepted it without argument.

Then the child abruptly changed direction and scurried off toward an art supply shop.

He followed at a leisurely pace and found the child standing fixed before a set of colored pencils. It too was a limited-edition set produced by a well-known pencil maker to coincide with the victory ceremony.

Across the top of the packaging, a golden eagle and laurel wreath, the symbols of the Royal Knights, were drawn in brilliant detail.

Watching the child carefully lift it up and examine it, he was reminded of the child holding that small bouquet of wild field flowers earlier.

A sudden impulse struck him to give something bright and colorful to a child dressed in black mourning clothes.

So he acted on it.

“I will buy this for you.”

So stop making that lonely face.

A flash of joy crossed the child’s wide eyes, but the child shook their head firmly.

“No, Sir. I cannot accept it. My mother told me to live bravely without being a burden to anyone.”

“Is refusing a gift the brave thing to do?”

The child was a child, and when pressed to the point, could not argue back logically and only fumbled. Andrea smiled and held out his hand with a teasing air.

“Then give back the knights’ emblem I gave you earlier.”

The child stepped back with an expression on the verge of tears. The pouty jut of the lower lip made it clear the child was calling him something rude inside.

Stifling a laugh, Andrea ruffled the child’s hair and said calmly.

“To keep that, you have to accept this too. That is how the world works.”

It was pure nonsense, but Andrea did not care. Instead, he kept stroking the child’s curly hair, which had been catching the sunlight like a bundle of golden thread and which he had been wanting to touch for a while.

It was softer and fluffier than expected, and a ticklish warmth spread all the way to the edges of his chest.

But he caught himself, pulled his hand away, and turned.

Walking out of the shop, he gave a quiet word to one of his attendant knights.

“Take the child back to the village where you found them.”

And then he forgot about it.

But now, after all this time…… the emblem and the limited-edition colored pencils had reappeared before his eyes.

Standing frozen, staring down at them, Andrea finally let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

It was absurd.

He had been completely wrong to think he had first met Riley when she was sixteen. Whether by fate or something else, he had encountered her more than once.

At the same time, a thought came to him out of nowhere: he had given her colored pencils before the attendant Jayden ever gave her paints.

How furious he had been when Jayden got there first.

A childish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Is something good happening, Your Highness?”

Alfonso called from behind him, tired of waiting, but Andrea walked past him with a light, unhurried step and a grin he made no effort to hide.