Ingrid and I sat beneath the branches of a small tree—very different from the lemon tree from our childhood. We left that space to my sister and Sir Percival, so a change of scenery wouldn’t hurt us.

  “I don’t usually walk around this area,” I said. “I’d forgotten how peaceful it is, far from the bustle of court.”

  This little corner brought back bad memories. It was here that I mourned Sora’s death and stared at the stars while drowning in tears. Now, however, things had changed.

  The sun was still shining—but not as brightly as Ingrid’s radiant smile.

  “True,” Ingrid replied. “Lady Girasol’s lessons have gotten harder lately. And Yuka isn’t exactly the best partner for court training either—her competitive expression makes me want to give it my all so I don’t lose.”

  Ingrid puffed out her cheeks, then patted my head gently.

  “I-I don’t like admitting it, but… I’m kind of competitive.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” I said. “A little internal competition will do the kingdom good.”

  I let her play with my red hair. Ever since her ambiguous confession earlier, Ingrid had started acting slightly different around me.

  Sometimes she held my hand, or discreetly leaned closer. Of course, never in public—and it never went beyond innocent flirting.

  “You’ll support me, right?” she asked.

  “Of course. I’m sure you’ll become a great court lady. Tomorrow is your trial by fire—you’ll have to impress the dukes.”

  I paused, closing my eyes and getting lost in my thoughts. The girl beside me didn’t resemble the timid, crying child I met years ago at all. Her growth had been exponential—proof of how much good relationships in childhood mattered.

  She went from barely being able to voice an opinion… to becoming an authoritative voice under Mother’s guidance.

  “S-Still… I’m a little nervous,” Ingrid admitted.

  “I am too,” I confessed. “Soon I’ll be king of these lands, and I’ll have to deal with the dukes. So we both have it hard.”

  “True,” Ingrid said softly. “But at the same time… we have each other to encourage one another.”

  She turned her blushing face toward me and looked straight into my eyes. The distance between us was barely four centimeters.

  Maybe less.

  But before anything could happen, Alda’s voice yanked us out of the moment, and we sprang apart on instinct.

  “Guys, guys, guys! We need help!”

  Talk about killing the mood.

  “What is it, Alda?” Ingrid asked, elegant as always, forcing her nerves under control so she wouldn’t become the target of a joke.

  “Sir Percival and I don’t know how to dance.”

  A moment later the blond knight arrived, his embarrassed expression making it obvious where this was going.

  “S-Sorry to bother you, Your Highness. Are we interrupting something?”

  Oh. So he did see us…

  He wasn’t dense after all.

  “No, it’s fine,” I said. “Do you need something?”

  Thanks to my court training, I managed to hide my embarrassment. Ingrid Wall did the same, serene as ever.

  “By the way, Sir Percival,” I added, “you don’t have to call me ‘Your Highness’ all the time. When we’re with close friends or in informal situations, call me Ulric, please.”

  “B-But Your Highness, that isn’t appropriate…”

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  “Come on. I barely have any friends my age. Most of the people around me are courtiers trying to earn my favor. I’d like to have a friend…”

  I paused, lowered my head a little, then smiled.

  “Would you be my friend?”

  “Oh… I understand,” Sir Percival said. He tried to smile too, still clearly nervous about the social gap between us. “All right. U-Ulric. We wanted to ask you both for a favor…”

  “The dance is the day after tomorrow, and we discovered we’re terrible,” Alda admitted, an anime-style sweat drop practically hovering above her head. “Could you give us advice so we don’t embarrass ourselves?”

  “Advice for dancing?” Ingrid’s eyes lit up with two little stars. She genuinely loved dance and sometimes practiced in her room. “We’d be delighted, right, Ulric?”

  I didn’t share her passion, but I wasn’t bad at it thanks to Mother’s training.

  “All right,” I said, feeling a terrible premonition. “Show us what you do.”

  Alda had never been a great dancer, and Sir Percival was still adapting to court life. In theory, that combination had the potential to be catastrophic.

  And then it happened.

  “U-Um…”

  No.

  No.

  This couldn’t be dancing.

  What Percival and Alda did in front of us was an offense to every dancer in the world. How could those erratic movements be considered art?

  No way.

  I refuse to describe what I just saw. You’ll have to imagine it.

  “Stop!” Ingrid’s eyes nearly bled. This went beyond “bad at dancing.” “T-This can’t be real. Is that seriously your dance?! You can’t present that at the banquet!”

  “I agree—oh man,” I muttered. “How are we going to fix this, Ingrid?”

  I looked at the albino girl with worry. Alda and Sir Percival still didn’t understand the importance of this event. If they did, they’d be panicking.

  “All right, Alda, Sir Percival,” Ingrid said, her gaze filling with determination. If anything defined Ingrid, it was her iron will—she never gave up. “You’re martial artists, right? You’re good at copying other people’s movements, yes?”

  “Yes,” they answered.

  “Excellent. Then copy our movements. Ulric—come here.”

  Ingrid grabbed my wrists and indicated I should hold her by the waist—the typical couple’s dance posture.

  “We can’t expect you to become experts in two days,” she continued, “but at least copy this position.”

  Ingrid’s honey-colored eyes practically burned with dancing flames. All I could do was smile nervously.

  She was so focused on teaching that she didn’t care about the physical contact. I was holding her waist, and our bodies were pressed close together.

  “G-Got it,” I said.

  The other pair obeyed their strict instructor.

  “Don’t move. Stay in that position for a moment.”

  Alda and Sir Percival looked shy being so close. The knight’s hands wrapped around my sister’s slender waist, and she immediately turned her face away. Ingrid, meanwhile, barely noticed me—her attention stayed on their posture.

  “T-This is embarrassing,” Alda whispered.

  “It’ll be more embarrassing if you do that abomination at the banquet,” Ingrid snapped. “Come on—hold her tighter, Sir Percival!”

  “A-Ah, yes… whatever you say, teacher,” the obedient blond replied.

  Honestly, I liked that side of Ingrid. She could go from timid girl to passionate force of nature when it came to what she loved.

  “K-Kya…!” Alda made that indecent sound again.

  She wasn’t used to being touched by boys, much less having one that close.

  “S-Sorry! Did I hurt you?” Percival asked quickly.

  “N-No, it’s not that,” Alda mumbled.

  Ah… teenage love was ridiculously entertaining to watch.

  I couldn’t stop a mischievous smile. It was way too fun. I even let out a small laugh—which Ingrid ignored completely, because she was fully locked onto the lesson.

  “Now step forward, then step back. Repeat. Look.”

  We demonstrated the basic court dance everyone knew: step forward, step back—one by one, slow and simple.

  Back in Mexico there were similar formal dances, but I’d never attended those kinds of events in my previous life. In this one, though, I’d received intensive training so I wouldn’t embarrass myself.

  Meanwhile, watching my sister and her partner attempt it was bleak. They couldn’t have been more out of sync. Sir Percival’s artistic sense was identical to a groundhog’s.

  And Alda…

  Oh, Alda.

  My God.

  Luckily she wanted to become a War Master, not an elegant court lady. Otherwise, she’d starve.

  “Ouch.”

  Between stepped-on feet, awkward grips, and painfully uncomfortable moments, the dance practice continued all afternoon.

  Honestly, I had more fun than I wanted to admit. Watching my older sister suffer was a guilty pleasure I enjoyed far too much—especially her frustrated expressions, which only made the blond knight blush harder.

  “All right… I think you’ll survive,” Ingrid said at last, hands on her hips. Then she collapsed onto the grass. “Being a teacher is exhausting.”

  “You can say that again,” I replied, throwing myself onto the green lawn beside her. It had been a long time since I’d had this much fun in a single afternoon. “Maybe teaching is your true calling.”

  “Maybe you’re right, Ulric.”

  Ingrid turned her face toward me, smiling with bright enthusiasm. I smiled back without thinking. She looked so happy she didn’t even care that she was dirtying the black dress she always wore.

  Who cared about that right now?

  Alda and Sir Percival lay on the grass too, completely wiped out. Not even their midday duel had made them look this destroyed.

  “Y-You’re a terrifying teacher, Ingrid,” Alda said, glaring like a handgun. “B-But… thanks. I think we’ll make it out of the banquet alive.”

  “T-Thank you very much,” Sir Percival added.

  “It was nothing,” Ingrid said. “I had fun too.”

  We fell silent for a moment, watching the sunset slowly fade into the beautiful night. Palace guards were already placing torches along the corridors, and candles would soon begin lighting the rooms.

  Ah… how I missed electricity.

  “Hahaha… hahaha…”

  Suddenly, I started laughing.

  There was no obvious reason. I just laughed as if I’d seen something hilarious.

  Alda, Ingrid, and Sir Percival joined in. It was innocent laughter—pure happiness that made me forget my problems for a few minutes.

  And that’s how, with one last joyful memory, my childhood in this new world finally ended.

  Starting tomorrow… everything would change.

  For better—

  Or for worse.