The two of them had parted ways after they had left the viscount and the young lady in the meeting room together, and Fourier had gotten into his dragon carriage. His last, trembling words to Ferris had been, “I command you to leave me alone.” He had never “commanded” Ferris to do anything before, and it was a sign of how deeply shaken he was.
Truth be told, Ferris had pictured this situation more than once. It was his own weakness that had kept him from telling Fourier the truth when they first met and led him to instead deceive the prince. And in all the times he had imagined this moment, he had never been able to work out an apt way to handle it when the truth came out.
“—Ferris.” Crusch drew close to him, cutting through his anxious self-reflection. In a quiet voice, she said, “Trust His Highness. He is the man you think he is.”
She had no proof for these words and offered none, but Ferris found them more comforting than any lecture on Fourier’s virtues. The bond and the trust between Crusch and Ferris were just that strong. And he wanted to believe he shared something similar with Fourier.
That was why…
“This is terrible! The greatest crisis of my life! Where are you two?!”
He was surprised when Fourier flew in with his usual commotion, looking at Ferris and Crusch just as he always did, every bit as panicked as he always was. He skidded to a halt in front of a wide-eyed Ferris and crossed his arms, looking cornered.
“My elder brother and my father got ahold of me the other day. They asked if it was true that I only love men. I wondered what they could possibly be talking about—and apparently it’s some rumor everyone in the city is spreading! This is grave indeed!”
Ferris just about lost it when he realized Fourier was upset about exactly the thing they had just been discussing. But…
“Ahhh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Before he could burst out laughing, Crusch beat him to the punch. It shocked him: Crusch virtually paralyzed with hilarity was a very unusual sight.
Finally, Ferris could restrain himself no longer and started laughing, too. “Ha-ha…ha! Ohh, Your Highness! You are too—ha-ha-ha!”
He pounded Fourier’s shoulder in his merriment, nearly hard enough to injure the young prince.
“Ow! That hurts! Anyway, what do you two find so amusing? The sky is practically falling! We have to do something about this misunderstanding!”
“Aww, why not just leave it? Ferri sure doesn’t mind being treated like Your Highness’s lover. Didn’t mew tell me yourself how much you loved me?”
“That’s a completely different subject! It’s true that gender doesn’t stand in the way of my love for you, but you’re a special case! I wouldn’t feel this way about just any—wait, what are you making me say?”
Fourier put his head in his hands, thoroughly confused by his own pronouncement. Ferris hugged him from behind, throwing himself against the prince’s broad back. The cat-boy shot Crusch a happy grin. The smile was still on her face, and she nodded as if to say she understood how Ferris felt.
All his anxiety from earlier melted away; he felt as if his heart had wings again. At that moment, he felt as if he could float right up to the sky and let the wind take him anywhere he wanted to go.
THE VALKYRIE OF DUKE KARSTEN’S LANDS
1
The first order of business in the morning was to address the reflection in the mirror.
“Cute! I am cute. A girlish young woman, a wonderful and cute girl.”
For quite a long time now, this had been the mantra, the words repeated like magic. No, not like magic. They were magic, for all intents and purposes. A magic spell was simply words that contained the power to change things, to affect the way the world worked. A vow to one’s self that brought about change could be called nothing less.
After this incantation, it was time to run a brush through distinctive shoulder-length flaxen hair. Ensuring it was full and neat before biting back a yawn and changing out of pajamas.
While moving over to the closet, cold air hit pale, slender—and at the moment—naked, trembling skin. It was important to pick a shirt that wasn’t too loud and a skirt with a hem short enough to perhaps raise some eyebrows, then check how it all looked in the mirror. Then came the culottes and knee-high socks, along with white ribbons to be tied into the hair. And just as the earlier magical incantation had affirmed, the picture of the ideal young woman was now complete.
Striking a pose in front of the mirror, then checking once more to be sure nothing was out of place. No detail could be overlooked; there could be no mistakes. This girlishness was borrowed, though it ought to have belonged to this person to begin with, so it was important to treat it carefully.
“Okay! Looking good today—again!”
Everything was wrapped up with a satisfied nod and a wink. Perfect, no mistake about it.
Truth be told, a point had long ago come where the regular affirmations were no longer necessary. These words were a part of the person who spoke them now. After all, it had been six years already.
“It won’t do to look meowlancholy.” A pat for each cheek. “Now, let’s attack the day!” And with a tiny yawn, it was time for them to leave the room.
The hallway of the mansion was silent in the early morning, a chill noticeable in the air. This was the hour when one could sense the cold season arriving. Even though this person was used to saving money wherever possible, mornings like this made them consider adding another layer.
In the hallway, morning greetings and easy smiles were exchanged with the servants who had already begun the day’s work. Everyone remarked on the sudden cooldown, and there was even a gentle warning not to catch a cold.
“What are you talking about? You mean that old saying, ‘Illness spares not even doctors’?”
After smiling and waving, they went their separate ways, while a certain person continued to the mansion’s main entry hall. An elderly steward opened the door. Walking through it while unconsciously bracing against the cold wind that came blowing through, a single figure hunched over.
“—You’re here.” Another had arrived at the entrance earlier and now tossed the brief remark over her shoulder. She was beautiful. The woman tugged on the reins of the white land dragon that was her faithful steed, holding her long green hair against the rising wind. Feeling her upturned, amber eyes watching made the newcomer unconsciously attempt to straighten up from their previous stooped position. It wasn’t an attempt to look good for the woman; her eyes simply had the power to provoke that reaction.
“You didn’t wait long for me, did you, Lady Crusch?”
“No, you’re right on time. I just woke up a little early. My father finally decided to permit me to take longer rides again. I’ve been dying to go for one.”
The dragon put its face close to hers, and she stroked its head, her expression relaxing into a smile. She looked very collected, and yet it spoke of something childish within her. Her name was Crusch Karsten.
She smiled even wider as she noticed her companion looking her way. “Go get yourself a land dragon from the stables. Our destination will be the same as always, all right, Ferris?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ferris responded with a perfect curtsy, appearing every inch the perfect lady.
This was how Ferris—the young man Felix Argyle—began every day.
2
Ferris, now sixteen, was a firm believer in the power of a person’s will and faith. If you kept believing, surprising things could happen.
For example, he should have developed secondary sexual characteristics long ago, but as if in response to his daily wishes and prayers, he showed no sign of becoming more masculine. His voice grew no deeper and his body didn’t thicken. He was quietly thankful to his ancestors that he didn’t grow a beard.
But the things for which he was grateful to his bloodline didn’t stop at his body.
“Have I bored you, Ferris?” A calm voice brought him out of his reverie.
He was taking a break, sitting in the grass and leaning against a large tree. Crusch had knelt directly in front of him and was looking intently into his eyes.
“…Sorry, meow. Kinda drifted off.”
“Oh? That’s unusual for you. Are you tired? Did I work you too hard?”
“No, I just let my mind wander a bit… Are you going to punish me? Lady Crusch, are you going to punish Ferri? My heart’s pounding!”
“Punish you? I would hate to be so coldhearted.” Crusch shook her head, oblivious to the significance of Ferris’s reddening cheeks. The cat-boy sighed. Crusch, still peering down at him, continued: “And there’s no need to stand on ceremony here. Let your mind wander if you wish. No matter what happens, I’m here.”
“Aww, Lady Crusch, you always know just what to say…even if you never seem to realize it. Ferri might just be in love…”
“—? Your face is red. It’s chilly today—don’t tell me you’ve caught a cold?”
“No, not at all! That’s not it at all! Oooh, Lady Crusch, you are just too cruel! I can’t stand it!”
Ferris’s mistress was completely oblivious to any feelings of affection deeper than close friendship and took his words completely at face value. “I see,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She looked properly embarrassed. Her very innocence itself was endearing—and completely unfair.
“—”
Satisfied by Ferris’s declaration of good health, Crusch returned to her original position, almost as if she were being pulled over. This grassy field was where the two of them always came when they wanted a longer ride. It was about an hour away from the mansion, a place of pure mana and full of wind. It seemed to border on holy. Ferris was always overjoyed to spend time with just the two of them, in a place where no one could interrupt.
“—Yah!”
The lithe Crusch went through a series of movements with her sword as Ferris watched from his spot beside a tree. Her polished strikes, the aggression she exuded—even Ferris, who was an amateur when it came to swords, could tell how accomplished she was with the weapon.
Crusch was completely taken with the beauty of steel; she had begun learning the sword even before she met Ferris. But still, the fact that her swordsmanship had reached this level was thanks to him. And that knowledge made him prouder and happier than anything.
That was why he would never grow bored of watching Crusch work with her blade. Seeing talent that he had helped cultivate captured his heart like the shimmer of a jewel.
“You’re even more into it than usual this morning, Lady Crusch.”
“True enough. It’s what comes of waiting so long for the sword and an extended ride. Without you to keep me from getting cabin fever, I’m sure I would’ve made some ridiculous complaint to my father out of sheer boredom.”
It was hard to tell from the side, but he almost thought Crusch was smiling pleasantly as she swung her blade.
Her eyes had been shining like a child’s during the ride to this place. For more than a month she had been denied the two things that made her feel most alive, and it must have been killing her.
“But it was just like you, milady, not to try to sneak out and do it on the sly.”
“Of course not. My father was right to reprimand me. I was the one who caused the trouble. If I saw fit to break the rules after that, people would surely say I had no shame.”
What made Crusch wonderful was the way she embodied words like honesty and uprightness. Because she believed it was natural to uphold the rules, she was wont to protest her innocence when it was clear she had done nothing wrong. This had certainly been one of those moments.
“You know, Ferri is not very happy with Lord Meckart’s decision. It was exactly because mew were there that things didn’t get any worse!”
“It’s only natural that my father asked me to act appropriately as the daughter of a duke. Although I do wish he’d accept me one of these days… So which of us is more stubborn—me or my father?”
Ferris puffed out his cheeks, but Crusch just gave a rueful smile.
The event that roused Ferris’s ire had occurred about a month before. On a day much like this one, Crusch and Ferris had taken one of their long rides through the Karsten domain. Along the way, they’d run across a group of pirates, the source of some local unrest, attacking a dragon carriage, and Crusch had gallantly driven them off.
Crusch had never been in any real danger, although she faced nearly ten brigands. But her father—Meckart Karsten, current head of the ducal House of Karsten—had been extremely distraught when the story reached his ears.
Crusch had known he would be and so had left the grateful carriage owner without giving her name, but she was far too famous for that to work. Her penchant for swordsmanship was common knowledge in the Karsten lands. And since the crest with the lion baring its teeth had been perfectly visible on her sword, there was no room to deny anything.
A duke’s daughter who eschewed dresses for men’s clothes and preferred crossing blades to admiring blossoms. The rumors were all too readily substantiated, and as punishment, Crusch was forbidden to take up a sword or travel very far from the palace for one month.
Crusch seemed to accept this, but Ferris had voiced his outrage directly to Meckart more than once. But the man would not relent. A month of waiting had finally led to the current day.
“I definitely ackmeowledge how much I owe Lord Meckart, but that doesn’t mean I have to accept everything he does.”
“I wish you wouldn’t criticize my father so much. He seems thinner every day lately. The responsibility of running a ducal household must weigh on him. I want his time with his family, at least, to be a source of good cheer for him.”
“Do you mean Ferri is a part of the family?”
“—? Of course.”
Ferris’s cheeks flushed at being included so readily in the family. He quickly patted his skirt to distract from his cheeks.
“It’s—it’s fine,” he said. “Lord Meckart practically seems to like it when Ferri puts him on the spot like that. He said he enjoys having people say outrageous things to him…”
“What? My father said that? I didn’t know…and I think I’ll see him a little differently from now on.”
Crusch was completely taken in by this bit of gossip Ferris had strategically deployed to distract her from his embarrassment. Meckart’s daughter wore a look of plain surprise. Ferris tried to fix the expression in his memory, as it was something he saw all too rarely. And silently, he apologized to the duke, albeit mentally sticking his tongue out while he did. He didn’t try to correct Crusch’s misunderstanding, though. Maybe that was a sign of just how displeased he still was.
3
“Felix, may I have a moment?”
“Yes, sir?” Ferris turned at the voice, offering his most girlish look in a fit of pique. The other man seemed dismayed at the openly flirtatious glance. Ferris enjoyed the moment. “Ooh, it’s just too easy to get a rise out of you, Lord Meowckart. It’s too much fun to tease you! You bring out Ferri’s inner trickster!”
“What? And you blame me for this? Er—I mean, I’m sorry.”
All you have to do is look a little bit put out, and he’ll apologize. What a pushover.
Standing before Ferris was a man in his fifties. He had grown a mustache, ostensibly for the gravitas it provided him, but the strange shape of his eyebrows and his gentle face robbed him of any benefit from it. The only thing he shared with Crusch, his blood daughter, was the color of his eyes.
It was all the more surprising, then, that this was Duke Karsten, head of one of the most famous noble houses in Lugunica. And he was also Crusch’s father—Meckart Karsten.
A doleful smile came over Meckart’s friendly face. He tugged at his rather incongruous mustache as he said, “I believe you were off on a ride with Crusch this morning. How is she doing?”
“If you’re concerned about her, sir, please let me humbly suggest that you ask her yourself. This is you we�
��re talking about, of course, but even so, do you think Lady Crusch would lie to you, Lord Meckart?”
“I’m not quite sure I like the way you put that. But no, I’m not worried that she would lie to me. It’s just… Well, I was the one who imposed that prohibition. I thought it might be hard for her to say how she was really feeling… Um, or rather…hard for me to ask.”
His good heart won out over his desire to deceive himself, and he voiced his true problem. Father and daughter were also alike in their inability to tell a blatant lie.
“I see… Well, put your mind at ease. Lady Crusch isn’t mad at you or anything. She even seems to understand why you did what you did.”
“You say that as if I were the villain… But, ahem, thank you.”
“For the record, though, Ferri is still mad. Nasty, nasty Lord Meckart!”
“What? Um, I mean, I’m sorry… Even I think I went a bit overboard.”
Meckart, looking weak, rubbed his upper abdomen. Thanks to the stresses of his position, combined with his anxious personality, he and stomach pain were close personal friends.
“Shall I use healing magic on you? It might take the edge off.”
“Right. Now that we’ve chatted, perhaps you could heal me. Would you mind coming to my room?”
“Nuh-uh! I’ve no idea what mew might do to me in there, sir…!”
“Nothing! I won’t do anything to you!”
Even though he gave the duke a hard time about it, Ferris eventually followed Meckart to his room. The place was simple: a desk for a secretary, along with a low table and leather couch for receiving visitors.
Ferris and Meckart sat facing each other on the sofa, and a servant brought tea as readily as if this had all been planned. After setting out the steaming cups, the attendant departed with a dignified bow.
With the servant gone and the door closed, Meckart put his cup to his lips and sipped at it carefully. “…Crusch will have her seventeenth birthday soon.”
The Dream of the Lion King Page 5
