Chapter 1
“Miss, have you been angry about something recently?”
Several old cards were laid out on a round table.
The woman, who had been staring at the cards bearing incomprehensible images, cautiously looked up at the customer sitting across from her.
The customer, who had pulled a black hood deeply over their head, gave a small shrug at the returned question. It was an ambiguous gesture—whether from surprise or puzzlement was unclear.
“Like what, for example?”
“Many things. Having something precious taken from you, or regretting something, thinking, ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’”
The customer tilted their head slightly to the side and looked up toward the ceiling.
The chin revealed beneath the hood was pale and slender. A few strands of red hair hung down behind their long, slim neck. The glossy red locks were so lush they made you want to reach out and touch them.
She seemed like a young lady from a well-off family, perhaps somewhat sheltered from the world.
After a moment, the customer answered quietly.
“Yes, there is.”
“I see. But you don’t seem like the type to take it lying down… Your personality isn’t that easygoing.”
The woman smiled faintly. But the customer did not smile back.
“Let’s see……”
Embarrassed, the woman quickly lowered her head over the table.
Her fingers, adorned with cheap beaded rings, busily turned over the cards. She traced her fingers over the cards revealed under the dim lamplight, one by one.
“I don’t know who it is, but the person who angered you thinks very little of you. You can’t just let that slide.”
“What exactly should I do?”
The customer finally seemed to show some interest. Excited, the woman pointed to the face-up card in the center.
“Here, this card.”
“…?”
“Do you see the boy setting out on a journey? By his side, a loyal dog always walks with him.”
The woman suddenly leaned forward. Then, with a subtle expression, she whispered.
“First, find a helper.”
“A helper……?”
“And then, do what you want to do.”
The hooded shoulders flinched again. The woman chuckled and shrugged.
“After all, it’s not like you’re the type to stop just because I tell you to.”
“…Where do I find this helper?”
The woman turned over another card and pushed it toward the customer.
The customer lowered their head to examine the card closely. It depicted an old man wearing a hood and holding a lamp.
“Not far away. Maybe closer than you think. But they’re hiding. It won’t be easy to recognize them at first glance.”
“How can I recognize them?”
“Oh, that’s easy!”
The woman giggled and pointed to the lamp held by the old man in the card.
“Ask them a question. Whatever it may be, they will have all the answers you seek.”
The customer said nothing for a while, staring intently at the card. After a long moment, they finally raised their head. Through the slightly tilted hood, dark green eyes gleamed calmly.
“I understand.”
The customer answered more simply than expected and stood up. Then they took a small pouch from the hood’s inner pocket and held it out.
“A token of thanks. It should be enough.”
“Huh? You didn’t even ask how much it— Gasp!”
The pouch she accepted without thinking was far heavier than she had anticipated. Startled by the clinking sound of coins, the woman’s eyes widened as she looked up, but the customer had already left the tent.
A breeze from somewhere gently swayed the lamp. Shadows danced over the cards of the traveler and the old man lying on the table.
The customer, having exited the tent, walked quickly along a narrow alley.
Though it was still morning, the back alleys of the magic marketplace were filled with a peculiar liveliness. The acrid smell of something burning, inventors’ bizarre failed creations, the sound of hammering or cutting, and even suspicious smoke rising from some chimney—nothing was out of the ordinary.
“An airship!”
Someone shouted from somewhere in the alley. The people crowding the alley all looked up at the sky at once.
Above the narrow strip of sky between buildings, an airship shaped like a fat fish drifted slowly past. While a few street urchins ran after the airship, the hooded “customer” never once looked up.
‘A helper, huh.’
Even as she walked looking only at the ground to avoid the sticky, unidentified wastewater, the customer kept mulling over the fortune teller’s words.
It was advice she hadn’t expected at all, yet it was quite accurate. Two gold coins were equivalent to a day’s wages for a laborer, but it hadn’t been a waste.
Indeed, even in an era where airships flew in the sky and trains crossed continents, there was a reason such old-fashioned tricks still worked.
‘But, asking a question.’
What kind of question should she ask? Even if she found the right question, how could she be sure the answer would be correct?
Lost in thought, her pace unconsciously quickened.
“Hey!”
Someone suddenly grabbed her elbow, bringing her hurried steps to an abrupt halt. Forced to stop, she instinctively looked up.
Her dark green eyes, hidden within the hood, widened.
Right there, close enough to feel his breath, was a remarkably beautiful face. Beneath golden hair that shone like the sun—so striking it seemed out of place in such a back alley—piercing blue eyes met her dark green ones directly.
Well-defined lips, set beneath a smooth brow and high nose bridge, slowly moved.
“You almost ran into something.”
His voice was as handsome as his face. Nodding slowly without even processing what he’d said, she finally noticed the large burlap sack hanging right in front of her nose. It was the kind of sack butchers used to collect leftover bones and meat scraps.
“Ah……”
“First time in Kirgis?”
The man carefully released his grip on her elbow.
“No, it’s not my first time.”
“Then you should know better than to walk around staring at your own feet.”
The man lightly flicked the tip of her pulled-down hood with his finger. Startled, she pulled the hood down even further, and she heard him chuckle softly.
“Watch yourself going back.”
“…Thank you.”
She bowed her head briefly, and when she looked up, the man was already far ahead. She watched his retreating back for a moment, then snapped back to her senses. As she busily adjusted her cloak and hood, her hand suddenly stopped.
“……?”
She brought her elbow—the one that had been grabbed—close to her nose and sniffed. It was a pleasant scent, but not perfume.
“This is……”
Her dark green eyes, which had been looking down at her elbow for a moment, lifted again between the folds of her hood and gazed toward the other end of the alley. The man’s trace was gone, but her thoughtful eyes remained fixed on the busy alleyway, as if she could still see him.
“Extra! Extra!”
Suddenly, a newsboy’s ear-splitting cry rang out. Snapping out of her daze, her head turned involuntarily.
On the main street outside the alley, a newsboy was running around excitedly.
“They say the Première arrived back today after completing her continental crossing! The fastest airship in the world! The one equipped with the new Météore engine!”
“Give me one!”
People rushed forward eagerly. After watching the newspapers sell for a moment, the black-hooded figure’s shoulders sagged slightly. Then, with steps far less energetic than before, she exited the alley.
Emerging from the back alleys of the magic marketplace brings you to a bustling district bathed in bright sunlight. It was almost strange how the atmosphere could change so dramatically with just a few buildings in between.
Under the bright sunlight, the black hood stood out even more. She pulled the hood down to her nose and then flipped it off. Her lush red hair tumbled down in waves past her shoulders.
Her calm features, not prone to much emotional expression, were revealed in the sunlight. Her pale, almost pallid skin and tightly pressed lips exuded a cool, composed aura, contrasting with the intensity of her red hair.
Her dark green eyes darted about alertly, quickly spotting the nearest tram stop.
After tidying her hair once, she stuffed the black hood into the large bag she was carrying. A cultured lady would never carry such a bulging bag, but she had no desire to be a cultured lady.
Only after boarding the tram that crossed Kirgis did she let out a long sigh. Her head ached from not having slept a wink since yesterday.
Staying up all night for research was a frequent occurrence. But this time, it wasn’t because of research. In fact, she might have preferred it if it had been.
Leaning her head against the window and letting herself be swayed by the tram’s vibrations, the scenery outside gradually became familiar. When the passersby grew fewer and the vibrations in the floor less frequent, it meant she was nearing Pelbrue Street.
She clicked her tongue softly. It was time to slowly stop being an unknown inventor from Kirgis and return to being Lady Hamiel Orte Walter, the daughter of the Count of Pelbrue.
“Oh my, Miss!”
As soon as she got off the tram, her maid Lisa’s voice called out, recognizing her instantly.
It was always like this around here. In a quiet noble neighborhood like this, it was nearly impossible to hide the Walter family’s distinctive red hair, even if it might be manageable in a busy downtown area.
“Where have you been?”
“Kirgis.”
“Good heavens! That dangerous place again! If the master finds out, he’ll have a fit right on the spot!”
Lisa fussed as she gave Hamiel a push on the back. Having been together since Hamiel was very young, Lisa’s hands were just as forceful with the “master’s” younger sister. Of course, that was only possible because the Walter family wasn’t an especially venerable noble house.
“What business did you have there this time?”
“Just sightseeing. And I needed a few things.”
“Hurry back. The master must be so worried about you.”
“Haelo? About me?”
Hamiel tilted her head and repeated Lisa’s words mockingly. Lisa’s eyes went wide.
“Of course. You know how much the master has looked after you since your father passed away.”
“I suppose so.”
Hamiel shrugged and took the lead. The distance to the mansion wasn’t far, but cutting through the garden made it a bit of a trek. If she hurried now, she could just make it back by lunchtime.
“If the master asks where you’ve been, just say you went downtown with me. And please don’t tell him you picked up something like salamander eggs from some weird magic shop.”
“They’re not lizards, they’re salamanders. And I didn’t get them from a magic shop; I collected them from under Cuttle Bridge.”
“Same difference.”
Lisa cut Hamiel off promptly. Hamiel shrugged and stopped in front of the mansion gate. There was no guard, but the gate swung open smoothly.
The first thing visible was the wide garden. On the front of the stately mansion, the Walter family crest—a red stag—shone in stained glass.
It was a crest bestowed by the Emperor after Hamiel’s father, Arnold Jefferson Walter, discovered the Météore mine. That was also why a humble country noble had been able to build such a splendid mansion in Pelbrue.
It had been only thirty years since Météore emerged as a new energy source for magical engineering. And twenty years ago—when Hamiel was just five years old—enormous Météore deposits were found in the Tyrba Mountains that ran through the young Count Walter’s territory.
The house grew larger, she got pretty clothes and toys, and she could eat plenty of delicious food, but what made Hamiel happiest was this large garden. The garden house the Count had built for the children had now become Hamiel’s private laboratory.
“Oh, by the way, Miss. Did you hear the news that the Première has returned?”
