Chapter 1: To Cut A Shortcake

The orchard within the Royal Villa was my home within a home. Undaunted by the tall shadows cast by the walls, the blossoming apple trees and flowering shrubs sung a song of springtime as they gently woke me from my afternoon nap.Rising from the grass, I cast open a bleary eye against the scattered sunlight filtering in between the tree leaves above me. Then, with a wipe of my hand, I noted the dampness by the side of my lips and quietly groaned.

That I'd fallen asleep in the open was already a dereliction of form. That I'd done so while drooling was unforgivable. Were a maid to see me in such an unfettered state, the shame would dog me long after I'd fired them.

Fortunately, there wasn't a soul to spy my indiscretion. Although that wasn't to say that nobody was in the villa or in the grounds. Servants, guests and guards were always abound. Usually by each other.

And that's how I enjoyed it.

Indeed, there was nobody around me.

As the fifth in the line of succession, it wasn't necessary to have attendants herding my every step during a busy day of diplomacy. My role was to attend the necessary public gatherings while making as little fuss as possible.

The intrigue behind closed doors was not mine to either witness or partake in, and as a result, I was broadly left to pursue the creative endeavours that a girl of my age was expected to demonstrate profuseness in.

Knitting. Gardening. Tea making. Painting. Poetry. Dancing.

Why, it was a terribly dull state of affairs.

To be so far removed from the comings and goings of my father's court while my own brothers and sisters advanced our family's cause in the dizzying light of public approval.

And that's why—

“Heh heheheh heheh ...”

That's why I jumped in joy.

Hopping on the spot like an excitable rabbit, I leapt for the clouds as I realised I'd woken up from a nap and still didn't have anywhere I needed to be!

It was marvellous! An entire day spared from the drudgery of court politics! An entire day where I wasn't subjected to the stench of old hags! No longer did I need to pretend I couldn't see the sly nods traded in the corners and the pouches of crowns being passed beneath the tables!

And that meant a day where I, Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea, was free to indulge in the scholarly pursuits.

I peeked around.

Then, I quickly stepped across the roots of the apple tree, leaned down, and pulled out a book from the shrubs residing at the base.

A bright red cover met my smile.

Opening it, I made a childish squeal as the leaf being used as a bookmark fell down and I saw how much of the book I still had left to enjoy.

Indeed, this book that was carefully and painstakingly hidden amongst the dirt and twigs was no treatise on history. Nor was it a recipe book for the decade's most delectable dishes in the world of haute cuisine.

It was … an adventure romance title.

A Court Lady's Indiscretion, Vol. III.

Immediately, I wiped the side of my lips as my etiquette failed me once again.

It was a wanton piece of literature that I had to order by courier and with a hefty bribe for discretion. But it was worth it. Written by an author claiming to be a noble-born lady, it detailed the truly shameless account of a romantic rendezvous with a castle guardsman.

Of course, I knew it to be a fabrication. There was no highborn lady on this side of the continent who would jeopardise their standing due to an infatuation with a common soldier. Such a thing was purely in the realm of fairytales, whereas the world was built on ambition as unbending as cold iron.

Yet even so, should even the slightest possibility exist …

Why, it would be truly scandalous!

Again, I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

However, my own personal indiscretion by reading this title wasn't ready to begin. There was a need for sustenance in order to fuel my reading session. And luckily for me, I happened to be surrounded by highly nutritious food.

Looking up, I spied a perfectly ripe apple dangling from the lowest branch. And then I reached up for the strawberry shortcake hiding just past it.

Smiling at how my day was proceeding, I went on my tip-toes and swiped, hopeful that my height had increased by several inches since I'd earlier tossed the shortcake amongst the branches.

“Uff … hrghh … hnnghh!!”

It hadn't.

Admitting defeat, I instead unsheathed the sword all members of the royal household kept by their sides.

Mine was merely ceremonial, of course. It was simply part of my dress. I was neither trained, nor expected to use a weapon. Should any situation arise, the guards could be relied upon to protect me.

Why, there should be no issue if it was used as a cake prodder, right … ?

Hugging the book to my chest, I reached up and gently tapped at the side of the branch with the face of the sword.

The shortcake dropped with ease. As it fell, I angled my sword—

And allowed the nutritious snack to fall across the edge of the blade, cleanly slicing itself into two finger-sized pieces.

Such was the keenness of the sword's edge, that the shortcake could barely be seen to split. Only when I caught it in my hand did it separate. Two perfectly golden slices topped with cream and half a strawberry each revealed themselves to me. And now I knew it was fated to be a good day.

“Hm hm hm hm hmm ♫.”

Yes, it was a very good day.

That is, until I heard the sound of hearty clapping.

“Not bad. One strike, eh? Your enemy never saw it coming.”

Immediately flinging both the book and the shortcake slices into the shrub, I twisted around and held up my sword. If I could, I would've thrown myself in there as well. And probably also the person who saw me.

Wiping away the childish joy from my face, I threw on my most dignified scowl and corrected my posture towards the man who was now holding up his hands.

I didn't lower my blade.

An unknown man in roughspun travelling attire and the start of an unkempt beard. Clearly a hooligan. And sneaking up on a princess in the midst of her studies! Why, that was at least three capital crimes! This caused for nothing less than immediate execution. Or at least several knocks around the head, specifically the bit which held memories.

“This area of the grounds is private,” I said. “Name yourself. You're not a retainer. What are you doing here?”

The man held up his hands slightly higher. And yet his act of docility neither matched his easy smile, nor the way he was casually admiring the blade pointed towards his direction as if it were a display piece.

“Woah there, let me confess first before you start putting holes in me.”

I immediately looked at which part of his body seemed most susceptible to being stabbed. His smile faltered slightly.

“What I mean to say is, I'm not used to finding my way around mansions. Caban Oxwell's the name. I'm acting as liaison with the Adventurer's Guild. I was told the steward was in the gardens?”

I maintained my scowl as I assessed the truthfulness of his claim.

It was enough to make the man hesitate. His now uncertain smile almost completely fell off his face before I decided he was at least scruffy enough to look the part of an adventurer. From what I knew, they were little more than hired vagrants.

“This isn't the gardens,” I said, lowering my sword, but not sheathing it. “It's the orchard. Return past the wooden gate and follow the path up the steps. You cannot miss it.”

“Right, right. Got it.”

The man nodded.

Only now lowering his hands, he retreated a few steps and turned around—and then kept turning, until he was facing me again.

“So, out of curiosity, do all the noble ladies here need to have swords on them? Or just the ones who regularly fight off falling pieces of cake?”

The abject humiliation almost caused my arm to shake.

As I thought up a passable excuse, I defaulted to keeping my scowl in place.

It was the one expression my parents had drilled in me to maintain when in public, since it was apparently better than looking bored and haggard. And I was exceptional at it. I didn't have many praiseworthy achievements, but maintaining a scowl for a family record of 336 consecutive hours including sleep was one of them.

The man looked uncertainly at me as I willed my brain to spin faster.

And then I thought up a wonderful solution.

“Oh … Ohhhhoho! What in heavens are you referring to? What sword? What cake?”

“H-Huh? The sword in your hand? The cake you threw in the ...”

“There is no sword and no cake. I declare this as a member of royalty.”

The man looked at me in utter confusion. I smiled victoriously inside.

That's right … when unable to answer a question, simply stamp the unyielding boot of authority instead!

Why, this man was a self-confessed wayfarer and a clear commoner! Why should a princess need to explain her royal functions? Whether it be napping in the grass or slicing cake, every action I took was a calculated decision in service to the realm!

“Royalty … ?”

The man looked puzzled. After a moment, he clicked his fingers.

“Aha! Then … you must be … uh …”

“Princess Juliette.”

“Princess Juliette! Of course, I should have known. Your breathtaking mastery of singing is known far and wide across the continent!”

I winced. My singing certainly was breathtaking. My mother once said that if I ever sung in a foreign land, it would be taken as a declaration of war.

However … that was before the rigorous hours of vocal training, breathing techniques and pitch exercises I'd subjected my maids to!

Indeed, if this unbiased and unpaid man was complimenting my humming, then perhaps it was proof that I'd outgrown the ability to shatter glass … ?

“T-Thank you … but I rarely offer the public the opportunity to hear my singing voice. In truth, I'm afraid I still have little confidence in it.”

“Oh. In that case, yeah. To be honest, I only came here because I thought an animal was dy—”

I opened my mouth, ready to shout for the guards to arrest this heinous criminal at once.

And then I felt the drop of rain hitting my forehead.

Terror seized me. I looked up at the sky, then marvelled and cursed in equal measure at how the few clouds to have inhabited the sky now seized this moment to choose a far greyer colour to adopt.

Again, another raindrop struck me. It was light and refreshing. And that's how it lured the innocent into not immediately dashing for cover.

A sudden onset of spring rain was common in this kingdom. It came and went like the tides. And while I would normally still make for shelter, that would mean abandoning my most cherished possessions for the damp and mud.

“Yes, well, um, will that be all?” I discreetly stepped towards the shrub where the book and shortcake were hidden, hoping this would also signal the end of our impromptu conversation. “If so, Sir Oddwell—”

“Oxwell. And I'm no knight.”

“Very well, Mr. Oddwell. My time is very precious and I have matters of statecraft to attend to. Do you require any additional directions or … ?”

The man gave me a strangely pained smile. Understandable. A chance meeting with a princess was undoubtedly any commoner's foremost dream. But I would not sacrifice my precious volume or second lunch to entertain his happiness.

“Hm? Well, sure. Don't suppose you could tell me where the bathroom is around here? I've been kinda dying to go since ten minutes ago ...”

T-This man!

What was he saying to a princess?! And the lack of tact! Just leave!

“There … There are public bathrooms in the guest quarters. You will have to return where you came, then find the clay roofed building adjacent to the portcullis.”

“Got it, thanks.”

“Excellent, then I'll just—”

“By the way, uh, why have you drawn your sword again?”

It was just as the man said.

I'd drawn my sword again. But it wasn't to shoo away this highly talkative commoner, who likely had no inkling of the number of etiquette laws he was breaking by maintaining this conversation.

No, it was for a far more important function.

Umbrella duty.

With a flick of my wrist, I batted away the next raindrop that had beelined its way towards the shrub. And then the next. And then the next after.

As I bemoaned the contemptuous state of our kingdom's weather, I looked towards the man, whose eyes had strangely widened.

“It is, um, improper for my dress to become wet.”

“What?”

His abrupt, almost shocked response caught me by surprise. I paused for a moment in thought, before realising that as a wayfarer, he likely took both mud and rain in his stride.

“I cannot allow the rain to seep into my dress,” I kindly explained, even if this wasn't the primary calamity I was avoiding. “It would be unsightly. A princess cannot wander the grounds with their sodden garments clinging to their skin.”

Yes … just like an adventurer.

Although the rain had only been falling for mere moments, already I noted the clear dampness where the rain was falling across his shoulders and hair. And yet he seemed either oblivious or careless to it … even as some of it landed in his open mouth.

“With … With that?”

He looked plainly towards the direction of my sword, held over my head as I swished away the hastening raindrops.

“Yes? I currently lack an umbrella.”

“An umbrella? You're using your sword as an umbrella to… to cut away the rain?”

“... I'm just preventing my dress from becoming wet?”

I looked at this man in confusion. Far from my simple answer stating what should have been plainly obvious, he instead viewed me with ever widening eyes.

This … This right here. This was precisely why I never spoke with commoners. That and the fact that the guards usually did a much finer job at keeping them at a distance. How was I supposed to explain an action as simple as protecting myself from the rain in easier to understand terms? Perhaps I should use hand gestures? Pictograms? Chest beatings?

Or could it be …

Ah-hah! I understood now!

“Oh, of course. I see now the sword by your side. I apologise, I did not take you as a swordsman. As you say, you are certainly no knight.”

“Huh?”

I smiled kindly, embarrassed I did not spot the real issue at hand sooner.

He must have been rendered speechless by the sword I was holding onto.

“Yes, this is the fabled rapier, Starlight Grace. One of the treasures of the kingdom, originally forged for my great-great-grandmother from ore claimed to have been carried from the stars. Sadly, the truth is that it's assuredly terrestrial in make. Even so, it radiates a splendid light, wouldn't you say?”

Of course, even if he didn't know the tale, he would still be able to appreciate my sword. It must be shocking to suddenly see such a storied blade being utilised before his eyes. I was remiss to not take such a consideration into account before wielding it.

I suppose that the charitable action to undertake was to demonstrate its luminous qualities. He certainly wasn't touching it.

Knowing I now had an audience, I swung more than necessary, sweeping a line of rain away in a crescent. A sparkling trail was left in its wake.

“A wondrous sword, isn't it? Of course, I understand your wish to hold it, but I must decline. This is a royal heirloom, and cannot be handled like a public curiosity.”

“N-No, Princess … That's not what … How are … Where did you learn to do that?”

“Excuse me?”

“That.”

The man continued staring at my sword, even as I was forced to quicken my strikes to fling away each and every raindrop.

In truth, I didn't know how to answer. The light was certainly impressive. But it was purely a function of the blade's meticulous craftsmanship, and also a dose of magic. I could hardly take credit for it. All I was doing was swinging the thing.

“I'm afraid I don't know? It's a natural effect of using this sword.”

“... I see. So the sword and wielder are one.”

“Hm?”

I offered a querying tilt of my head. What I received back was a stiffening of shoulders and a straightening of the back, much like a guard jumping to their feet after being caught dozing by the inner gate.

“I apologise, Princess Juliette. It appears that I've been more than impolite. I've been impudent. Yet if I may be ruder still, may I inquire as to your swordsmanship grade?”

“Excuse me?”

I was so stunned that I allowed my hand to falter for a moment. I quietly groaned inside as my eyes glanced to the hint of bright red peeking beneath the leaves, then set my sword back to work on ensuring it remained bright red.

“Yes … which grade are you?”

“I have no grade,” I said simply, believing well and truly that this man didn't possess a single marble behind his eyes. “Why should I need one?”

I'm a princess, for heaven's sake!

In what world would I be graded for my swordsmanship? Furthermore, what would that achieve? It was one thing to be chided by my tutors at courtly etiquette. To be yelled at by the master-at-arms for failing to beat up a straw dummy was quite another.

“I see … so you are above such things. Truly remarkable.”

“W-Well, in a manner of speaking?”

I responded uncertainly to this strange man. More and more, I was wondering whether I needed to call the guards or the physician. Particularly to his lack of tact.

As I busied myself with shooing away the rapidly pelting spring rain, the man continued to ogle both me and my sword without any indication that he intended to excuse himself. The sheer blindness to social cues would never have occurred with any dignitary. Or indeed, anyone with eyes.

“Princess!!”

“Hiee! Y-Yes?! What is it now?”

All of a sudden, the man let out a loud exclamation and bashed his fist against his chest. I jumped in fright, then despaired at the thought I truly had to communicate via chest bumping.

“Please, Princess! If you've yet to receive a grade, I ask … no, I beg you! Allow me the opportunity to do so! Let me grade you!”

“Grade me?!”

The man nodded. His expression was creased with unyielding seriousness. Bizarrely, he paid no heed to the rain dribbling down the front of his hair. It was as though the fire in his eyes burned away the wet and cold.

“Yes, Princess! Though a mere adventurer, I have some small renown with a sword! Please allow me the honour of grading your ability! It is, frankly, inexcusable it hasn't been done already!”

The man's hand went to the sword hilt by his side.

My mouth fell open.

If a guard saw such an action being taken towards me, he would be hauled away in chains. And if he was lucky, still with his head on!

Even conscious of my mouth being wide open, I lacked the capacity to correct myself. Aside from my sword still dutifully whacking the falling rain away, I was paralysed by the audacity of the request.

“Sir Oddwell—”

“Oxwell. And I'm no knight.”

“Whoever. I cannot even consider entertaining this request. Not only is there nothing to grade, but such a thing would be utterly against all codes of conduct. Even bearing in mind your common station, it's inexcusable that—”

“Princess!”

To my absolute shock, this grown man promptly dropped to both knees. A squishing noise sounded as his well-travelled clothes came into contact with the damp grass.

“I beg you this favour! Order me gone, kick me out or arrest me! But first, allow me to test the strength of your sword!”

I looked at him in horror.

Once, I'd had a young nobleman propose marriage by prostrating himself before a shocked hall. Another time, I'd had an entire tray of wine spilled on me by a blundering maid. Neither event fazed me half as much as the sight of a professional ruffian with unkempt hair begging me to undertake a swordsmanship exam.

“Th-That's not necessary! Please stand! It's unbefitting of you to beg in such a way! You … You must do so using one knee, maximum!”

The man was unrepentant. He maintained his unsightly pose, causing my soul to wince with each passing moment.

“Princess, my request!”

I let out a small groan. Especially as the spring rain now chose to peter out as swiftly as it'd come. That, I suppose, was a message from above.

“I … I could consider it … if the process is brief … very brief … and you depart immediately … how would you grade me … ?”

“The only way there is, Princess!”

The man immediately jumped to his feet. I looked on in horror as his palm nestled around the top of his hilt. He gave a fiery smile that matched the vigour in his eyes.

“With a test of steel.”