The concept of magic “character” that his teacher had introduced fascinated Kunon.

The more he tested it out, the more effective he became. Through trial and error, attempting this and that alteration, his power and magic naturally improved.

It was infinitely more engrossing than the days when he was merely producing endless regular A-ori.

“Iko, try drinking this.”

“Master Kunon?”

Kunon had been practicing magic in his room for a few days.

He had avoided doing so before, since a mistake might have flooded the place. But since he was now used to manipulating and controlling his power, he was confident he wouldn’t make such a careless error.

He ran magic drills in his room, and when his magic was used up, he went outside to hone his body by swinging a staff.

Lately, he could tell he was getting stronger. It seemed two months was enough time to see some results.

Now Kunon had just called out for his maid. Iko had been embroidering in her room, waiting to be of service. He offered her the cup on the table.

There was water in it.

“Oh, flavored water again?” she asked.

“Yep.”

To create the water, he had taken a normal A-ori, divided it down into its characteristics, and added his own alterations. Kunon couldn’t see color, so he was testing other kinds of changes.

That day he was focused on flavor.

“Don’t mind if I do— Oh, it tastes like apples. It’s faint, though.”

“I thought a weaker flavor would be perfect for drinking.”

“Ah, I see. That makes sense. If you were drinking a lot at once, something lightly flavored might be best… This is quite delicious.”

“But if I cut off the magic, the taste goes away—like so.”

“Oh, you weren’t kidding… Ugh, this is awful. It’s really bad. Somehow, it’s more bitter than regular water. Terrible.”

Kunon was aware of how bad it tasted. It wasn’t really suitable for drinking. That’s why he had altered its flavor. Should he be without drinking water at some point, he wanted to use this flavored water to rehydrate.

“Magic is amazing, isn’t it?” said Iko. “For someone like me, who can’t use it, it’s like a little divine miracle.”

“You’re right. I think so, too.”

And if it was a divine miracle, Kunon believed he should be able to make eyes with it.

Although his goal hadn’t changed, he had calmed down somewhat. It had begun to sink in that the finish line was still quite a ways away.

It’s going to be a long, hard road, he thought.

He had concluded that progressing slowly but surely was the best bet. Kunon knew from experience that his magic would fail if he got impatient. Magic didn’t work well when it was rushed.

“Well, in any case, your being able to make hot water has been really helpful,” said Iko. “Even just the extra water was very nice, of course.”

Kunon was barely more than a beginner, but he still had his uses as a sorcerer. Between providing water for everyday use and hot water through alterations, the plumbing situation in his detached house had improved considerably.

Before, Kunon had only been able to take a bath about once every three days. But since he became able to produce hot water, he could bathe every day.

Iko was really enjoying the time saved not having to prepare the bath and getting to take her own baths every day as well.

“Once you’re a little more practiced, how would you feel about helping prepare baths in the main house, too?” she asked.

“Oh, good idea.”

The thought hadn’t occurred to him, but Kunon was in favor.

The detached house where he stayed with Iko had been built for his own comfort. His family, however, lived in the main house.

They had a lot of servants, so preparing the bath probably wasn’t a big deal—but if helping with hot water was one of the few things Kunon could do for his family, he would do it happily.

The more-withdrawn Kunon of the past might not have thought that way, but he was different now—his outlook was much more positive.

He hadn’t quite realized it yet, but through his magical and physical training, Kunon was starting to believe in himself.

After using up all his magic, Kunon practiced swinging a staff the way Master Ouro had patiently taught him.

“Master Kunon.”

He was covered in sweat and just about to run out of steam when Iko called his name, breaking his concentration.

How long had he been practicing? Without his noticing, the wind blowing over his face had grown cold. He couldn’t see the color of the sky, but he wasn’t able to feel the warmth of the sun anymore.

“Dinnertime already?” he asked.

“Yes. Let’s go back to our rooms.”

Kunon stopped his practice and let Iko lead him by the hand to the detached house. He was uncomfortable from the sweat and wanted to take a bath right away, but…

“Master Kunon, a letter has arrived from Princess Mirika.”

“Huh?”

This unexpected news threw his otherwise normal day into chaos. The timing was horrible. Chills ran down his spine, and they weren’t just from the sweat.

“We can discuss the details later,” said Iko, “but basically, she’s requesting a visit with you.”

Iko had permission to open and read letters addressed to Kunon, since he couldn’t do it himself. Actually, his father checked his letters before sending them on to the detached house.

Mirika Hughlia was the ninth princess of the royal family. She was still a child, but she was well aware of her position. She wasn’t foolish enough to write about royal secrets or private matters in a letter.

But just in case, precautions had to be taken. Iko’s position would be jeopardized if she accidentally learned something she shouldn’t have, so the letter had to be approved before it reached her.

“Um… Tell her I have a cold,” said Kunon.

“You used that one a month ago.”

“A stomachache.”

“You’ve used that one, too.”

“…I fell and scraped my knee or something, then.”

“What if she says you can meet anyway? Won’t that be a problem?”

“……”

Kunon was in trouble. He didn’t need Iko to tell him that.

He hadn’t seen his fiancée in two months. They hadn’t met even once since he’d found his purpose in magic.

They were supposed to visit every two weeks, but Kunon didn’t have time to see Mirika. So he kept feigning illness and declining her requests.

For her part, Mirika probably had no desire to see Kunon, either.

Her fiancé had been chosen for her by His Majesty the King, and so she grudgingly made the visits. If anything, the princess was probably overjoyed to have an excuse not to see him.

That said…

“…I can’t put it off any longer, can I?” he asked.

He didn’t want Mirika to visit, but it had to happen. Even if they kept their distance from each other as much as possible, they couldn’t get out of their engagement. It was a royal order, and this was their fate as nobility.

“I don’t think so,” Iko said. “Since His Majesty and your father have made the decision, putting it off any longer could cause trouble. For instance, what if Princess Mirika and His Majesty came to check on your well-being?”

That was out of the question.

Just imagining the king coming all the way to see him made Kunon break out in a cold sweat.

“…Right. I see. Tell her we can meet.”

He didn’t want to, but there was no other choice.

And so it was decided that, in a few days’ time, Mirika would pay a visit.

***

The landscape flew by as the horse-drawn carriage trundled on.

The sights streaming past were quite familiar. She’d seen them countless times, and every time, they grew more and more depressing.

“Ugh…”

This is awful.

Thinking that Kunon must feel the same, Mirika heaved a deep sigh.

This was Mirika Hughlia, the ninth princess of the kingdom, and presently nine years of age. She was the daughter of the current king—not that the distinction meant very much, considering how many brothers and sisters she had.

Currently, Mirika was on her way to her fiancé’s house.

Kunon, who bore the Hero’s Scar, had turned out to be a sorcerer, and so Mirika had been betrothed to him.

To put it simply, their engagement tied Kunon to the royal family.

Sorcerers were valuable. Whether in times of war or peace, excellent magic users were essential to the progress and defense of a nation.

Mirika was like a collar and chain that prevented Kunon from winding up in the hands of powerful nobles or foreign countries.

She didn’t mind that so much. Mirika and Kunon were both the children of aristocrats, and political marriages were unavoidable. It was all part of being a member of the ruling class.

The problem was something else.

“…Ugh.”

From their very first meeting, Mirika had found it difficult to be around Kunon. And the more time they spent together, the more difficult and depressing it became. Lately, it was so bad it was like there was a stone settling in the pit of her stomach. And that was to say nothing of how it affected her heart.

Mirika had met all kinds of children at the school for nobles she attended. Not even one of them was as taciturn, negative, dispirited, or perpetually gloomy as Kunon.

The two of them had nothing to talk about, either.

Kunon almost never started a conversation himself, and when Mirika realized that the vast majority of topics she brought up required sight, she clammed up. Plays, books, stories about her time at school—to someone who couldn’t see, they were incomprehensible.

She found it truly painful to spend time with Kunon, and she suspected he hated being around her as well. The idea that they could like each other, even a little, was unthinkable. But they were obligated to spend time together, and there was no avoiding it.

“…Ugh…”

When she thought about living the rest of her life with Kunon…looking upon that sad, dull expression every day…

Once, she ran away from him.

They were walking in the garden without his maid, and she disappeared from his side. She didn’t want to be near him.

After that, running from Kunon became a habit. Although she knew it wasn’t good for either of them, she couldn’t stand to be next to him.

And yet Mirika worried about leaving the boy on his own—and never went so far away that she couldn’t see him. What a truly pointless and half-hearted escape attempt, she thought.

Kunon hadn’t been well for the past two months—although he was probably faking it—so they weren’t able to meet. But that couldn’t go on forever.

As the Gurion estate rose into view, Mirika’s sighs kept coming.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Your Highness.”

At her first sight of Kunon in two months, Mirika’s eyes went wide.

He was standing in front of the main house with his usual maid, but he looked utterly different from the boy she had met on her previous visit.

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to meet with you for a while due to my poor health.”

“Ah y-yes… Um, Kunon?”

“Yes?”

On the off chance that this was someone else, Mirika tried calling Kunon’s name. But the boy in front of her was indeed the one who answered.

It really was him. This was Kunon.