30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue - Chapter 36

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B

Chapter 36: A Night of Counting Stars (10)

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* * *

When Ivan arrived at the Counterintelligence Command, everyone from the guards to the agents at the desks had risen to their feet.

"My God, it really is him."

"Little Ivan..."

Whispers filled the command's interior. As Ivan walked, they bowed silently behind him, then stood rigidly at attention when he passed before them.

One agent whose eyes met his hurriedly raised a hand in salute and approached him.

"I-it's an honor to meet you, Colonel Petrovich!"

"You know me?"

"I do, sir."

The young man trembled under Ivan's gaze and quickly added, "I belong to the generation that learned from the manuals you wrote, Colonel!"

"Ah, those."

Ivan nodded. He remembered writing something like that.

It had mostly recorded methods for infiltrating demonfolk districts and his experiences assassinating important figures in the field. It was something like a diary.

And as was usually the case with diaries, having someone read what he had written was extremely embarrassing. Ivan turned his expressionless face away.

"Have you come to see Lieutenant Colonel Cherkatov?"

"Yes. Let him know that I have a matter to report directly to Chamberlain Kirillovna."

"...I'll escort you to the East Court. This way."

Ivan gave a brief nod and followed the nameless agent. A suffocating silence pressed down from every side.

A direct report to Her Highness...? What could be so important...?

Each agent bowed in salute behind Ivan, then returned to their duties with stiff movements. It felt as though they were all about to become very busy.

No one knew what would happen, but if "Little" Ivan was meeting the Princess in person, the repercussions were bound to reach them too.

* * *

The East Court of Krasilov was an immense marble structure built solely for the Princess.

Because of the Princess's personality, it had favored extreme practicality over the dignity expected of a royal court. Still, its sheer size and symbolism left a powerful impression.

Ivan stepped down before the grand front gates, decorated with reliefs. The agent driving the carriage silently saluted and disappeared down the street.

Considering he stood before the court, it would not have been strange for someone to be watching. Ivan did not pay it much mind.

"Dmitry."

"Oh, Senior!"

Dmitry must have rushed out the instant he received word. He still looked half asleep. Pushing back his hair, he smiled his usual friendly smile.

"Let's go right in. Her Highness is already waiting for you."

"She knew I was coming?"

"Well, she hasn't gone to bed tonight!"

Dmitry chuckled as he pictured Elizaveta anxiously pacing back and forth.

If the mission had succeeded, the air warship should have vanished from the skies over Pritchenkaya.

If it had failed, news of Ivan's death would have arrived.

Neither possibility made sleep easy. Expecting Elizaveta's concern, Dmitry had also stayed awake to handle his work.

"Her Highness is in the rear garden. Let's go."

The rear garden of the East Court opened toward the main road through the castle, the road that led to Saint Yansk University. In other words, anyone sitting in the garden could see the air warship in the sky.

She must have sat there staring upward, waiting to learn whether the mission had succeeded or failed. That meticulous woman, and yet that tenderhearted woman.

Dmitry led the way with a faint smile.

"Our next meeting should be at a more fitting time, in a more fitting place."

In the end, it had not been a particularly romantic reunion. He let out a quiet laugh as he remembered Elizaveta's words.

* * *

As Ivan headed for the rear garden, he lost himself in thought. He remembered the last time he had seen Elizaveta.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Vanka. I truly am, truly sorry."

She had stood there, choking back tears on a miserable rainy day. She was a small woman, now that he thought about it. He had suddenly wondered how someone like her could have come from the bloodline of that broad-shouldered late King.

"You all... no one else, but you all, had every right to resent me and this country. Even if you had run away, I would not have blamed you."

What had he said to the Princess as she sobbed in the rain?

Ivan remembered at once.

"Do you have any roses?"

"...What?"

"Cherenovika liked roses."

It had been a funeral hall, and a burial ground.

There were no gravestones, and no mourners.

It was a place where the agents' final moments were honored, a funeral ground for people whom no one else would mourn. People who were meant to be forgotten.

Before the Counterintelligence Command building was erected, it had been a desolate empty lot in a corner of war-ravaged Pritchenkaya.

There was not even an eave to shield them from the falling rain. In the cold winter downpour, Elizaveta asked with a haggard face.

"Do you remember the things the others liked too?"

"Yes. Every last one of them."

"Tell me. I will remember."

That was enough.

Ivan began speaking quietly. When he finished, Elizaveta whispered softly.

"Roses, chocolate cake, musk perfume, silk handkerchiefs..."

Repeating the names of the departed agents and the things they had liked, Elizaveta whispered them over and over.

When the rain finally began to ease, she looked up at him with wet eyes and reached out.

Her hand was cold. Her chilled fingertips trembled faintly, perhaps from the cold.

Ivan stood still as he felt Elizaveta's slender hand stroke his cheek.

"Vanka, please live quietly. Stay out of everyone's sight. Let this country forget you."

Ivan was a trained agent who had learned lip-reading, so he could read even the words Elizaveta murmured without voicing them.

So that only I may remember you.

Because no one else in this country deserves to.

"That said, do not ruin your face. Hmm... yes. How about growing a beard?"

"A beard, Your Highness?"

"Yes, like my grandfather's. I think it would suit you."

Ivan remembered the great late King's face and nodded slightly. He had possessed a splendid beard, dignified and manly.

Ivan stood there in the rain for a while longer, then turned and left.

That had been his last meeting with the Princess. Four years had passed since then.

With the Princess's help, many people had forgotten him.

Fortunately, because he had once been a senior officer on the Royal Guard's rolls, his name remained in the national cemetery.

* * *

Beyond the entrance to the rear garden lay an expansive flower garden.

Flowers carefully tended by magic bloomed in abundance beneath the night sky.

Ivan stopped for a moment.

Roses, lilies, freesias, and countless other flowers bloomed together without distinction. To some, it might have looked like a carelessly arranged and disorderly garden.

Ivan knew better. This was a memorial garden for those who had died in the last war.

Flowers were planted after somehow learning which ones the dead had favored in life. They had been made to bloom throughout all four seasons.

So they would never be forgotten.

"Your Highness, Dmitry Cherkatov presents himself before you."

"Come closer."

A cool voice called out. Beyond the garden stood a long outdoor table.

The table gleamed white under the moonlight, with a simple spread of tea and refreshments atop it.

Beyond that sat a small woman sorting through a pile of documents.

"Vanka. It has been a long time."

Her silver hair was neatly arranged and secured with a vivid blue pin. Instead of the sterile uniform he remembered, she wore a royal dress.

Dressed in blue, she looked up at him.

As Ivan searched for something to say, her eyes widened in shock.

"My... God..."

Ivan was, after all, a trained agent. Through lip-reading, he could infer the rest of what she had swallowed.

What on earth have I done...?

Her gaze was fixed on Ivan's chin.

* * *

It took Elizaveta some time to recover from the shock.

She had to clear her throat several times, doing her best not to look directly at Ivan's face.

By the time Ivan finished his report, she no longer showed any embarrassment. Her expression had returned to its usual coldness.

"So Beolgreen appeared in person and told you that."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Hmm."

Elizaveta tapped the table as she thought.

After a while, she raised her head and looked up at the sky. Stars were scattered across the dark night.

"Vanka, the woodcutter I trust most."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"You have met my father before. What do you think of him?"

"...The Great King..."

Elizaveta gave a small laugh at Ivan's answer.

"The Great King, is he really?"

"..."

"He is a fool who believes every problem will be solved if he keeps his mouth shut and sits still. I will gladly hate my father. I must."

Her eyes burned fiercely.

"The Allied Kingdoms feared a sharp sword. Did you know that? If the Hero Party had not disbanded, a second war would have begun. A war that history would record as one between an individual and a collective."

Since the Demon King's arrival, the rulers of the Allied Kingdoms had been consumed by deep concern.

Their enemies' armies were frightening, but what frightened them most was the existence of an individual capable of overwhelming an army.

The existence of a person who could stand against an entire group was, in itself, a challenge to authority.

If the Hero Party had not disbanded, if they had not each returned home to become part of society once more, the world would have faced a second war.

"You said Maximilian has not disappeared. And Beolgreen is searching for my brother."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"I will deal with the 'false' brother in this city myself. Do not concern yourself with him. But yes... why would my 'real' brother have formed a connection with the Hero Party's great mage?"

Elizaveta's eyes sharpened.

"What if the Hero Party had a reason like the one that meant all of you had to perish back then? If we assume there was one person they absolutely had to eliminate, who do you think it would be?"

"...Maximilian."

"Yes. Of course it would be. Humanity's strongest. The greatest of all time. Maximilian, the 'Demon King Slayer.' It would be that man."

Beolgreen had planned all this in order to find the real Crown Prince's location.

If Beolgreen had mentioned Maximilian's seclusion in the midst of that, it was reasonable to assume there was a meaningful connection between them.

Then only one question remained.

How?

How could anyone dare make that powerful man "disappear"?

What could possibly be done to remove him? Was such a thing even possible? Even Ivan, who knew so many of the Allied Kingdoms' strongest figures, could not easily imagine it.

It might be possible if every member of the Hero Party ambushed Maximilian.

But that could not be the case. And if it was not, Maximilian would never have fallen to human hands.

"Wait. I will find the method... and the reason it had to be done."

"Yes."

"Sit. I have kept my guest standing too long. Forgive me."

Ivan sat in the seat prepared for him. A maid approached and poured steaming hot black tea into his cup.

Scrape.

Elizaveta pulled over a chair and sat beside him.

"Let us put work aside for now. For the moment, yes. Can you enjoy this?"

"..."

"It has been four years, Vanka. I had hoped our reunion would be more romantic than this, but when does the world ever go as expected?"

They sat side by side and looked over the flower garden.

The flowers shone in the moonlight, swaying softly in the breeze.

"Do you recognize them?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"I have not forgotten."

This small woman, who still barely reached his chest, smiled faintly.

It was a smile carrying deep exhaustion and pain, yet still bearing a trace of the bright spirit she had once possessed.

"When I step out from my office onto the terrace, I can see this garden immediately."

"Your Highness, I hope you will not look at the flowers."

"Pardon?"

"The late King once said something to me."

Ivan paused, choosing his words as he recalled those old days.

It had been during his service with the Royal Guard.

"'The burden of war, hardship, and the price paid in blood is the duty you must shoulder. For that reason, I hoped Her Highness the Princess would look not to the earth, but to the sky as she walked.'"

"..."

Elizaveta silently stroked her teacup. Ivan raised his head and looked at the sky.

Stars were scattered across the night like grains of sand.

Perhaps one of the few benefits of this premodern fantasy world, with so little artificial light, was the beauty of its night sky.

Ivan spoke calmly.

"Your Highness said you remember those who departed when you look at the flowers. But that is not right. Do you remember our wartime maxim?"

"...Do not mourn those who have departed."

"Yes. Because we stand in the same ranks as they did. Because all of us will one day leave this earth."

Elizaveta closed her eyes at his words.

He poured tea into her cup and placed it in her hand.

The white teacup had been warmed by the black tea. It was warm.

"Please carry on the late King's will, Your Highness. Look not to the earth, but to the sky as you move forward. When you miss those who have departed, look to the night sky instead."

Elizaveta opened her eyes. The night sky was not dark. Beyond the black heavens, stars spread in abundance between the clouds that had drifted into view.

"Do not picture the departed in the flowers. Count us among the stars. I believe they would want that from Your Highness as well."

"Vanka..."

Elizaveta turned to look at Ivan.

She stared at him for a long time with tearful eyes, then quietly reached out.

The hand warmed by her teacup settled against his cheek. Elizaveta looked at him for a moment before asking softly.

"How about trimming your beard just a little?"

"...Please be merciful."

"What if I order you to?"

"I have already left the service, Your Highness."

"It seems your eloquence is the only thing that has improved since then."

Having said something Enrika would fiercely object to, Elizaveta broke into a broad smile.

* * *