Wings of Ivory and Edge of Steel, Part III

Princess Augusta Claudia Eugenia von Clausewitz, firstborn of Emperor Ferdinand VII, was an outstanding individual. From diplomacy to military strategies, from physics to liberal arts, the princess excelled at whatever that was taught to her and even earned the praise from Imperial ministers. Having mastered both swordsmanship and magic at the age of 14, thus becoming a spellsword, she joined the Imperial army as a magic knight, and quickly rose up the ranks through her accomplishments on the battlefield. It was said that her presence on the battlefield alone would crack the morale of the enemy, something that the Republic --- the Empire’s archnemesis --- never refuted.

The princess was not perfect, of course. While her military achievements were impressive, her domestic reputation was less positive. Known to be blunt and cold, and never a fan of social gatherings, she abandoned her role in the aristocratic society and seldom went to the banquets, salons, and tea parties that swarmed with noble ladies. When she did attend, she preferred the sword and the uniform over the jewellery and the evening dress, and often caused disturbance. Her visage was polarising among not only the aristocratic class, but also the common people of the Empire. Critics questioned whether such a renegade princess could fulfil the role of a woman of the Imperial family --- that was, to be wed in a political marriage.

Wherever she went and whatever she did, all this praise and criticism followed.

On the day she met the silver-haired wanderer, Princess Augusta von Clausewitz was eighteen years old.

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Princess Augusta was drinking a cup of freshly brewed, fragrant green tea, courtesy of the great engineer Neil. With each sip, her chilling expression softened, as if it was slowly melting under spring’s sun.

“Great fragrance. Your tea never disappoints, Neil. Such good tea is rare even in the Imperial Palace; you must have paid a lot of attention to the tea leaves and the water.”

“Is that so? I used the leaves from the Shang-ri La Mountains and purified glacier water. I think the tea is still a bit bitter, though, so maybe the water was a few degrees too hot. I think I need to come up with a way to control the temperature precisely. Maybe a magic kettle with temperature control or something…” Neil smiled; his eyes full of passion. Unlike the stereotypical engineer, Neil preferred tea over coffee, and he was serious about his tea.

“Even without it, the tea is still great.” The princess replied.

“Thank you, Claudia! Do you want some more?”

“Sure.” The princess handed her plain porcelain cup to Neil, who filled it with some more tea from the clear glass jug and handed it back to the princess. The princess seemed to hesitate for a second, but she took back the teacup quickly, her fingers touching Neil’s in the process. With another cup of Neil’s tea in hand, the princess thanked the engineer, revealing a kind smile that had been hidden under her ice-cold demeanour. Meaningless chatter went back and forth between the bright engineer and the princess; with each word exchanged, the princess’s face seemed to get redder.

And the young --- no, old wanderer Grey, who sat next to the youth and was forced to witness the scene, took a sip of the lightly steaming, amber-coloured tea. It was great; even for a coffee drinker like me, I knew that the princess’s compliments were sincere. So even this princess, whose eyes were as cold as the steel edge of her sword, whose heart must be as hard as iron to survive the battlefield, could smile warmly like a lady of her age, I thought.

“What are you smiling at?” The princess questioned me, her piercing gaze returning. “Was there something on my face?”

“Nothing, Your Highness. This old man is just blinded by the happiness of the youth; never once did I see such a lovely spring flourish in front of my eyes. I can barely contain the second-hand happiness you shared.”

“Happiness of the youth?” The innocent engineer did not understand, while the princess hid away her face in silence.

Seeking to change the topic, the princess spoke. “By the way, Mr Assistant, you said you are a wanderer from another world, right? What was your old self like?”

“I don’t remember.” I replied.

“You’ve lost your memory?” The princess was surprised. “That’s uncommon. Even if it could be hazy, most wanderers retain the memory of their past lives, even if their memories awaken a long time after they were born. How do you even know you are a wanderer in the first place? If your memories weren’t awakened yet, then you wouldn’t know you are a wanderer.”

“I still remembered what my old world was like, and it was nothing like Earthtear. But I can’t remember anything about myself --- not my family, nor my name, not even what I looked like.” I leaned back on the chair and took a sip of the tea. “Every time I tried to search my memories, there seemed to be a wall of fog that I cannot see through. All I have right now are my skills and knowledge, which, according to the Witch, have magical value in this world.”

“You can remember the knowledge from another world, but not your personal life? I’ve never heard of a wanderer like that. Maybe someone tampered with your memory, and you are tricked into thinking that you are a wanderer?” The princess came up with an outrageous suggestion.

“No, that can’t be the case. The tower’s surveillance images showed that I materialised in the garden in an instant. You know what this mean, right?”

“You were not reincarnated, but you just suddenly showed up?! Was it teleportation?!” The princess’s jaw dropped, her voice filled with disbelief.

“As we all know, teleportation is impossible.” Neil interrupted our conversation. “At least, impossible for humans. Unless it’s an act of the Goddess, that is.”

“So, unless the Goddess brought him here, just like how the Goddess brought souls from other worlds to this world, Mr Assistant shouldn’t exist.” The princess seemed to have understood something. “His existence in itself violates the physical laws of the world.”

“Princess, aren’t you being a bit rude here?” I protested.

“But she’s right.” A strong, dignified voice resonated across the room. “My assistant. Your existence is either the greatest favour Mythrias has ever granted, or the basest attempt at sullying Her name. Whatever trickery that materialised you in my garden --- let it be teleportation or else --- was beyond human means. Such was a fact that cannot be denied.”

The voice’s master was none other than the owner of this tower, Dandelion the witch. Her long hair still dishevelled and her beautiful figure partly exposed, the Witch of the Origin was still in her nightgown, which had become untidy due to her catastrophic sleeping habits. As if she was still sleeping, the witch was emotionless, her azure eyes staring not at us, but at something behind. Despite her messy look, her posture still conveyed a great sense of authority and dignity, which, strangely, complemented the arrogant words that came out of her mouth.

Finishing her words, the witch began to walk down the stairs in perfectly uniform steps. The princess immediately stood up and saluted. “Your Excellency,” the princess spoke, “thanks for granting me the audience today. On behalf of the Vestinian Imperial Army, I would like to discuss…”

The witch, however, ignored the princess and continued to walk down the stairs, seemingly in a trance. Suddenly, the princess stopped talking. Her face turned red again; apt at hiding emotions she might be, the indecent figure of the witch was too embarrassing for the conservative 18-year-old.

“Your Excellency should take a better care of herself. Otherwise, these shameless men here might take advantage of you.” The princess said to us, knowing full well that her words cannot reach Dandelion.

“Claudia, you know master really can’t get up in the morning.” Neil ran towards the witch and tried to turn her around. “It’s not the first time you see her sleepwalk.”

“I don’t think I will ever get used to Her Excellency speaking in a regal voice in her nightgown… To begin with, is that really sleepwalking? I don’t think people talk while sleepwalking.”

“I have to agree.” I interjected. “But now is not the time to talk about it. Neil, why not let me handle Dandelion, and you go and talk to the princess about her business? Surely Dandelion will wake up soon. Surely.”

“Actually, Neil, can you handle Her Excellency? I know you are someone worthy of trust. Unlike someone who might be filled with perverted thoughts.” The princess intervened.

“Sure! Then I will be going. Master, your quarter is this way…” Neil escorted the witch back up the stairs, leaving the princess and me alone in the room. Some noise came out from upstairs shortly after; it seemed that the witch was finally fully awake. With the child engineer out of the sight, I opened my mouth.

“I didn’t think you will have that much faith in me. What is it that you don’t want Neil to hear?”

“I have very little faith in you; I was sincere in my words.” The princess answered, insinuating that I was a pervert. “But you are Her Excellency’s assistant with special skills, and I will give Her Excellency my trust. Your skills are desperately needed.”

“Is it some sort of technical consultation? I am not sure I can even help.”

“Yes. And we need all the help we can get at this point.”

“Then surely Neil can help, too. He’s one of the finest engineers I’ve ever seen. Even without most of my memories, I can say this much.”

The princess’s face turned dark and sorrowful for a split second. “Neil… is still an innocent kid. He’s so young and so kind to everyone, without expecting anything for return… I cannot drag him into dirty adults’ business.”

You are barely an adult yourself, I thought, but it was something that I could not say it out loud. Her jewel-like crimson eyes, full of determination, were staring intensely at my own; I could not help but to respect her wish.

“Fine. I will try to help. Don’t expect too much, though.”

“Thank you, Mr Assistant.” The princess thanked me and took out something from her uniform’s pocket. “Then, do you have any knowledge what this is?”

“Of course.” I answered. How could I not know what that is? It was such a common thing in my past life, to the point that the sight of it irritated me.

The bronze-gold colour, the distinct cylindrical shape; the open top that looked as if something was missing; the characteristic smell that reminded one of sulphur. There was only one thing that could look like that.

“It’s a used bullet shell, isn’t it?”