Only when she wears her glasses can she return to her true self.
Celestine de Oiria, having slipped out of her lodgings in the old capital city using her usual method, put on her favorite silver-rimmed glasses and became simply “Celes.” The cold evening wind caressing her cheeks felt pleasant.
The royal capital, La Parisia, where Celes lives, is also a city embraced by a river.
Perhaps it’s because they were built in the same era. The two distant capitals share a certain resemblance.
Celestine de Oiria, Princess Regent of the Eastern Kingdom, was visiting the old capital, the Empire’s largest northern stronghold, on a diplomatic tour. Of course, even though it’s called a tour, it’s not for pleasure.
The season of politics had arrived in the Eastern Kingdom.
Her younger brother, Hughes, who had been mocked as a child king, was now twelve years old. He was approaching the age where he could handle government affairs.
Celestine, who had long been in charge of politics and diplomacy as Princess Regent, was stepping back. It was, in a way, like an abdication.
There was one problem with the abdication.
It wasn’t Hughes’ ability. This younger brother, who bore the same name as the legendary founder of the country, was, even in the eyes of his sister Celes, exceptional. He was showing glimpses of talent surpassing their father, who was called the “Holy King.”
The problem was the neighboring country.
The Empire.
A giant dragon that had been competing for supremacy with the Eastern Kingdom for hundreds of years.
When this country is led by a brilliant ruler, it exerts a terrifying pressure on the Eastern Kingdom. This had been repeated many times throughout history. The era of the late Emperor of the Empire was exactly that. If Celes and Hughes’ father had not been a genius king, the Eastern Kingdom would have had to redraw the map of power significantly.
That’s why it was necessary to weaken the Empire’s power.
In ten years, Hughes would handle it. This was not a sister’s biased view, but the assessment of a cold-hearted politician. Celestine de Oiria was here to buy those ten years.
But, “Celes” of the <glasses> had another thought.
She was nineteen years old, in the bloom of her youth.
She was a sheltered princess who had finally been freed from that office. King Hughes, who should be handling it, was doing the troublesome paperwork. He might be confused at first, but that’s what the bureaucracy was for.
Therefore, she should be allowed to let loose a little. It was a natural right for Celes, who had dedicated everything to the country, the royal family, and her brother for many years.
Celes took out a bundle of parchment from the bag she had brought. It was a report from the Collector of Curious Tales.
“Izakaya Nobu, huh? I wonder what kind of place it is.”
The best way to get to know a city in a different country is to actually walk through it.
Reports don’t convey the atmosphere, smells, or noises, and passing through in a carriage doesn’t allow one to see things from a person’s eye level. Celes, with the help of her maid, occasionally sneaks out of her lodgings like this.
Of course, she’s careful about safety. She doesn’t go too far from her lodgings and avoids dangerous areas. Usually, she only takes short walks.
But today was different.
She was going to eat at the izakaya mentioned in the report by Jean-Francois Mont de la Vigny, the Collector of Curious Tales. The target was kushikatsu. She absolutely had to try it.
Royal women are told that eating greedily is unseemly, so Celes is limited in what she can eat. Frites were also excluded from her meals as something she shouldn’t eat. Her younger brother, Hughes, eats them to his heart’s content, claiming it’s to build his body.
That’s why Celes’ goal was to conquer kushikatsu.
She couldn’t believe the sensibility of someone who wrote in a report that “pork is justice when fried” and “shrimp tastes sweet when fried,” but there was no doubt that these were expressions that whetted the appetite. It would be strange if one didn’t want to eat after reading such things.
She walked across a log bridge over a waterway.
This city has many bridges. She kicked some of the remaining snow from the morning’s snowfall into the water, and it floated for a moment before sinking as it melted. She found that strangely interesting, and Celes realized that she was smiling naturally. She was just walking, but it was strangely enjoyable.
As she proceeded down the street lined with stone houses, she saw a sign written in the Imperial language that read “Coachman’s Lodge” street.
If the report was true, the izakaya Nobu should be on this street.
She took a small, deep breath. She took a step, as if stamping on the muddy road. It was a small step for the residents passing by, but a big step for Celes.
“Oh, there it is!”
Her worries instantly melted away. A store built of wood and plaster, exuding an exotic atmosphere, stood before Celes’ eyes. The appearance of the store was exactly as described in the report. The sign had the store’s name written in characters that even Celes had never seen before, but there was no mistake.
With tension and anticipation in her heart, she reached for the glass door. When she pulled open the single-pane frosted glass door, the inside of the store was warmer than she had expected.
“Welcome!”
“…Welcome.”
Celes was somehow happy that even the greeting was as described in the report. She was now standing in a place she only knew from parchment. She found that somehow interesting.
She took a seat at the counter as guided. The oshibori and otōshi were also as described in the report.
“What would you like to order?”
“I’ll have the kushikatsu, please.”
Order in a loud and clear voice.
This was something Jean-Francois repeatedly stated in his report. Speaking in a strange, small voice would not only make you seem suspicious but also make you feel embarrassed. After mustering all her courage to place the order, the black-haired waitress looked puzzled for a moment, then bowed deeply with an apologetic look.
“I’m very sorry. We are not serving kushikatsu today.”