Chapter 13
“Guruk.”
The sturdy Bucky answered with a flap of his wings.
“Ah.”
Pepe’s delicate body swayed like a reed at even the light movement of the bird.
Though Bucky’s pitch-black eyes and feathers were terrifying enough to feel oppressive—like they could swallow all light—he was nothing but adorable to Charmant.
“Bu-Bucky, I’m sorry, but could you come down?”
In her old body, she could hold Bucky on her arm without trouble, but now her arm trembled and felt like it might snap at any moment from the pain.
“Gurrrruk.”
Bucky let out a low grumble, clearly displeased.
“I’m worried you’ll get hurt.”
“…Kuruk.”
As if deciding to let it slide just this once, Bucky quietly landed on the floor.
Charmant staggered again from the sudden release of weight.
Luckily, she had some of Bucky’s favorite fruit at home, so she was able to feed him right away.
And someone had apparently left a tightly woven mesh bag hanging on the door handle while she was out. Inside were six perfectly ripe apples.
Charmant still didn’t understand how everyone around her managed to feed her three meals a day like clockwork.
What kind of person had Charmant Pepe been to all these people?
Someone who was welcomed wherever she went. Someone who drew concern from everyone.
It was a truly unfamiliar feeling for Charmant—who had once been someone that ordinary people would avoid eye contact with just for walking past.
She fed Bucky and then slumped into a chair herself.
Feeling quite hungry, she pulled out an apple, wiped it off on her sleeve, and took a bite.
The crisp, sweet juice ran down her lips and along her chin.
She’d never been greedy for food in her life, but everything she’d eaten in the past two days was irresistibly delicious.
“…It’s good.”
“Gurrruk?”
Having finished one apple in an instant, Bucky busily looked around the house, head tilting left and right in curiosity.
The house was small, and Bucky was big, so he couldn’t fully spread his wings and had to shuffle awkwardly as he looked around.
Charmant smiled fondly at the sight, then met her own gaze in a small mirror.
Her silvery blue hair had gotten messy under the hood of her robe.
Her soft pink eyes, now glowing coral under the lamplight, looked a little tired.
Her puffed-out cheek made her look exactly like a wild hamster eating food.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, she took another big bite before she had even swallowed the last one and gulped it down.
“Bucky.”
“Guruk.”
“Could you go to the Soro Forest for me?”
“Guruk.”
For Bucky, finding his way was easy.
Moreover, as a Seiac, Bucky would be warmly welcomed even by the elves of the Soro Forest.
Seiacs were revered spiritual creatures by the elves.
If Charmant had sent only a letter, the elves probably would have ripped it apart without even reading it.
Back when she had approached them without knowing anything, she had not only been turned away at the door but had almost ended up hated.
But if Bucky, a Seiac, delivered the message, the elves would probably treat it more like a visit from royalty.
Charmant quickly wrote a letter on the paper she had bought earlier.
The next morning, just before dawn.
Charmant moved swiftly and stepped outside with Bucky.
“Be careful out there. If anything dangerous happens, forget the letter and come straight back. You’re the most important thing.”
She checked the letter tied to Bucky’s ankle one last time.
“Gurrrr.”
As if telling her not to worry, Bucky fluffed up the feathers around his neck, then bumped his head gently against hers in farewell.
He then used her shoulder as a perch and launched into the sky.
With wings spread wide, Bucky flapped powerfully a few times and was soon out of Charmant’s sight.
She watched until he shrank into a black dot and eventually disappeared completely before finally turning around.
That’s when she caught a fleeting glimpse of a familiar figure.
“…!”
Charmant’s eyes widened.
Her body moved before her thoughts could catch up.
She rushed toward the alley in a panic.
Thankfully, the man was still at the alley’s exit, heading for the main road.
Slender frame. Rough silver hair that reached the waist. Always dressed in dark clothing. That unmistakable figure.
Like grabbing a lifeline, Charmant ran forward and grabbed the man’s arm.
“Eltaine.”
The name slipped out like a desperate gasp.
The man stopped walking.
The moment he turned around, Charmant froze like she’d been doused in cold water.
“…Pardon?”
It wasn’t him.
She had mistaken someone else’s back for his.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I mistook you for someone else.”
The startled man gave her a soft smile and a polite bow before continuing on his way.
Charmant stood in the alley, dumbfounded, replaying her actions in her head.
Why had she been so convinced it was Eltaine Shire?
He had been one of her disciples.
Decadent, rebellious, and more than a little difficult. Always picky, always needing attention.
He hated hassle and was terribly lazy.
But he had the same magical talent she had, and he had spent his past as a mercenary, wandering alone—just like she had. That had always tugged at her heart.
“Did you even eat properly? Still not? Geez, you’re really a handful.”
“Clothes? I just ironed mine and threw yours in too. If you don’t like it, stop leaving them where I can see them.”
“Damn it, Charmant! Wake up!”
Aside from Laddy, whom she had picked up during training, Eltaine was the only one she had ever asked to become her comrade.
When she last closed her eyes… had they made eye contact? Or had she looked away?
She thought she saw his tears. Heard his scream as the sealing chains were broken—too late.
Maybe… maybe she had leaned on her disciples more than she realized.
And now, even though she hadn’t treated them well when she had the chance, here she was—clinging to their memory like a lifeline.
“Idiot.”
Charmant let out a dry laugh and slowly walked back to the shop.
She spent a little time inside, trying to organize her thoughts, then stepped out to open the shop.
She wiped away the dew and dust that had settled overnight and straightened the crooked signboard.
Today, she thought, it would be nice if just one person came to buy or sell something.
Then suddenly, the ground seemed to tremble. Footsteps. Rhythmic, disciplined ones.
They were definitely trained. More than one person.
The sound grew louder until eleven people in dazzling red uniforms marched into the alley in perfect formation.
When the apparent leader stopped in front of Charmant’s shop, the other ten halted behind him in unison.
A fine layer of dust rose around them.
It was clear—they had come here.
Had they come to arrest her? What did she do wrong? Was she a criminal of some kind? Why send so many people?
Charmant flinched. Her body froze from the fear of not knowing.
The man in front gave a deep bow to the stiff Charmant.
“Greetings!”
Despite his imposing appearance, his voice sounded like a bleating goat.
At the same time, the ten behind him all bowed deeply in unison.
It looked like something straight out of a gangster movie.
“…What is this about?”
Charmant asked as calmly as she could.
The man stepped forward.
He was short enough that she had to look down to meet his gaze.
Another man behind him stepped up and handed over a small pillow with a letter resting on it.
The first man took it and offered it to Charmant.
“A royal invitation.”
“A what?”
She was stunned by the mention of the royal palace—but also relieved that they weren’t here to arrest her.
But a royal invitation? Why would they send one to her?
She was just a commoner running a small shop… Was there any reason for the palace to send her something like this?
That sort of thing didn’t happen. Not in Ruintbell, where she used to live.
The man with curly white hair and a scruffy beard offered the letter again in silence.
Charmant took it and opened the envelope.
The luxurious gold-trimmed paper clearly bore her name—Charmant Pepe—and the royal seal of Elium.
It was an invitation to attend the Spring Flower Banquet hosted by the royal family.
“…Oh no.”
Her eyes trembled fiercely as she read the name.
Marquess Charmant Pepe?
She had suspected something was odd when the Tower Master showed up, but she hadn’t realized—she wasn’t a commoner?
Charmant practically shoved the letter into her own face, reading it again as if chewing on each word.
The letter clearly began with:
“To the esteemed Marquess Charmant Pepe…”
There were no family crests anywhere in the house, no noble furnishings.
Of course not. The villagers had always treated her casually—no one had sensed anything unusual.
Sure, there were people who treated everyone equally… but even so…
This… this isn’t okay.
