It was like a scene from a fairy tale.

The thought suddenly occurred to Dieta.

There was that story that appeared in so many fairy tales, wasn't there? The clichéd, childish one about a princess locked in a tower and a handsome knight who came to rescue her.

Of course, Dieta wasn't fond of those stories. She was long past the age of finding charm in fairy tales that strung together lovely scenes without any regard for logic. But that was only when she encountered such a situation in fiction.

... When a fairy tale became reality, though...

Well, you know...

Dieta had to admit that it made her heart flutter rather more than she had expected. Here she was, imprisoned in a ducal villa. And here was a handsome knight holding out his hand, saying he had come to rescue her without stopping to weigh the consequences.

'He isn't a knight, but he is handsome, at least...'

Dieta gazed at Najin with hazy eyes. His robe concealed most of his face, but looking up from below, she could make out its contours.

... Had he always been this handsome?

Was it the situation? Her muddled mind? Or were the moonlight and starlight pouring down from the sky acting as a filter? Dieta swallowed hard at the sight of Najin, who looked even better than usual.

Quite out of keeping with their predicament, her heart fluttered. It must be the shock. Telling herself that, Dieta curled up a little tighter for no particular reason. The night wind was fairly cold, after all. The constant jostling was making her dizzy, after all.

Offering herself those flimsy excuses, she clutched Najin's collar. Beneath the brilliant moonlight, their escape continued for some time.

* * *

"Let's rest here for a moment."

They were a fair distance from the villa. Najin entered a small cave in the thick forest along the estate's boundary. After carefully lowering Dieta to the ground, he took off his robe.

"They won't be able to mount a proper pursuit until sunrise anyway. They may have good night vision, but it'll take time to figure out what happened and get things under control. Even at their fastest, we'll have time to catch our breath."

The knights didn't even know where Najin had fled or where he was headed. He was already an old hand at concealing his presence and obscuring his tracks.

"So let's rest for now."

Najin glanced at Dieta. He could run all night without trouble, but she didn't look well. She was sweating coldly, her face pale. He handed her the robe he had taken off.

"At least wrap that around yourself."

"W-what?"

"It's cold. I can manage, but it must be hard on you."

Najin glanced at her thin, airy nightdress. This wasn't weather anyone could endure in clothing like that. Dieta slowly nodded and draped the robe he had given her around her shoulders.

"Unfortunately... I didn't bring anything that could heal your ankles. Those aren't injuries a potion can fix, so I think we'll have to leave that for now."

Najin murmured as he rummaged through the adventurer's bag he always carried. Then he took out a rolled blanket and a mineral lamp. He spread the blanket out before Dieta with a brisk flick and gestured toward it with his eyes.

"Get some sleep, even if it's only for a little while. You look tired."

"... I'm still all right."

"Don't be stubborn. Rest while you can. We'll have to run like hell once dawn breaks anyway."

Muttering that, Najin struck the mineral lamp sharply with his fist. It flickered at the impact, then filled the cave with a dim sunset glow.

Only then could Dieta properly see the state she was in. Her sweat-soaked nightdress clung to her skin, revealing every line of her body, and her hair was disheveled. She couldn't check her face, but it was surely streaked with tears.

Self-consciously, she pulled the robe tightly closed and wiped her face with her sleeve. She was beginning to feel a little embarrassed.

"Are you very cold?"

"W-what? No? I'm fine...?"

Dieta hiccupped.

She wasn't particularly cold. Her face merely felt as though it were growing hot for no reason. But to Najin, the way she clutched the robe tightly around herself could only mean she was shivering from the cold.

And wasn't her face oddly red, too?

Had she caught a cold? It certainly looked as though she hadn't eaten or slept properly for several days, all while nursing injured ankles. It wouldn't be strange if her immune system had hit rock bottom.

'Is she dizzy? She can't even meet my eyes properly.'

Dieta's darting eyes. Her bright red ears. To Najin, she looked like nothing more than someone who was ill, but the truth was a little different.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

Pressing firmly against her noisily pounding chest, Dieta lowered her head. For some reason, meeting that man's eyes wasn't easy. Keeping her head down to avoid Najin's gaze, she crawled into the blanket.

What was wrong with her?

And why was her heart pounding so loudly?

She had spent her entire life behind a mask, preoccupied with growing her trading company. Now that the mask had fallen away, the emotions she felt were utterly unfamiliar. Without even recognizing what they were, Dieta pulled the blanket over her head.

Could it be...? Thoughts began to surface, but she quickly shook her head.

She would never feel that sort of emotion. And surely she wasn't a woman who fell so eas... No, wasn't it natural for her heart to flutter a little in a situation like this?

A peculiar denial, followed by an equally peculiar rationalization.

Quite out of keeping with their predicament, Dieta closed her eyes, her hand pressed firmly over her fluttering heart.

2.

Just before sunrise, in the early hours when dawn was about to arrive, Dieta blinked her eyes open.

She had wondered whether she would be able to sleep at all with her heart fluttering and her ankles throbbing, but those worries had proved groundless. She had slept soundly. Rubbing her eyes, she looked across the cave.

Najin sat there leaning against the cave wall, his head lowered and his sword held against his chest.

Had he kept watch like that all night? Still not quite awake, Dieta blinked her hazy eyes and stared at him. How long had she been looking?

"You're awake."

"Hic!"

Najin, whom she had thought asleep, raised his head. Startled by the voice that suddenly reached her ears, Dieta's shoulders jerked.

"Y-you were awake?"

"I don't sleep much. I was thinking it was about time to wake you, but you've woken up right on cue."

Najin let out a long breath and loosened his shoulders.

"I imagine you've had a night to get your thoughts more or less in order. Have you thought of a way forward?"

Her bodyguard, Pasion, had said Dieta had measures prepared and that, if Najin merely acted as a carrier pigeon, she would be perfectly capable of finding a way out of the situation. Somehow he had ended up bringing her out instead, but he doubted that made much difference.

"Thanks to you."

Dieta smiled. Najin was right. After a good night's rest, her mind had begun working properly again. Still, it remained difficult to meet his eyes, so she lowered her gaze a little.

"I have quite a few options now."

"For example?"

"It'll become a somewhat complicated, tiresome struggle over who has a legitimate claim, but I can turn the situation itself on its head. I didn't want to go this far... but now that things have come to this, I have no choice."

Dieta let out a long breath.

"My trading company is one of the three largest in Cambria, the City of Opportunity. It's a sizable company. Normally, if a ducal house tries to swallow up a company that large as it pleases... there's bound to be a backlash."

Yet there had been little outcry over this incident. The reason was simple.

"The reason there was no backlash this time, no serious resistance... is that I belong to House Arbenia. The ducal house has a legitimate pretext. Who would object to it swallowing up a trading company built by one of its own children?"

Dieta smiled bitterly.

The name Arbenia. She had never quite been able to abandon it because of her lingering attachment. To think it would hold her back like this.

"Then the solution is simple," she said. "I'll tell the Central Guild about all of this—or rather, the Cambria Foundation above it. And while I'm at it, I'll get rid of my surname, too."

"What happens then?"

"The ducal House Arbenia will no longer be able to swallow up the company. They'll also have to consider how outsiders will react before they lay a hand on me."

Knowing that, Osman had imprisoned Dieta. If he pushed matters past the point where she could do anything about them, even the foundation would be powerless.

"Ultimately, it's a fight over legitimacy. And," Dieta added, "the Cambria Foundation's claim to legitimacy is by no means inferior to the ducal House Arbenia's."

The Cambria Foundation.

It was a foundation formed by an alliance of nobles to preserve the traditions and unique character of Cambria, the City of Opportunity where King Arthur's journey had begun. Its standing was personally guaranteed by the emperor.

However powerful the ducal House Arbenia might be, it could not confront a foundation backed by the emperor head-on.

Above all, legitimacy favored Dieta's side. If a large trading company in the city were swallowed up in this manner, and such a precedent were allowed to stand, the Cambria Foundation's reputation would suffer as well.

"And the foundation has a fairly good opinion of me."

"What do you mean?"

"I've paid my taxes so faithfully, you know. Tax evasion, cooking the books, fraudulent listings... I've never pulled any of those tricks on the foundation. Of course, you might say that's only to be expected."

Dieta shrugged.

"In our line of work, paying every bit of your taxes on time gets you called a sucker. Still, it's easier if you earn that reputation when dealing with the foundation. The reason there hasn't been a single controversy despite how much I've expanded in just five years is that I've been a conscientious taxpayer."

So if she asked for a favor, they would grant it. Dieta stated that with certainty.

"But there is one small problem."

Dieta sighed.

"Going through the Central Guild would delay things. I need to visit one of the noble houses affiliated with the Cambria Foundation directly—and meet someone high-ranking, at that. But I doubt they'll open their doors if I simply turn up unannounced."

She smiled bitterly.

"As I am now, I have no way to prove who I am."

She had no nameplate, no uniform identifying her as the head of her company, not even a carrier pigeon she could send in that capacity. Here and now, Dieta was merely a girl.

"So I think we'll have to stop by Cambria first, but Duke Osman won't sit back and let that happen. He'll probably block the roads by whatever means he can. Things have become a little complicated."

"About that."

Najin, who had been listening quietly, spoke up.

"What are the names of the noble houses at the heart of the Cambria Foundation?"

"The comital House Ostrum, the comital House Kloefsch..."

There were three noble houses at the foundation's heart. Dieta named the most renowned of them last.

"And the marquisate House Trevache."

Trevache.

It was a familiar name to Najin. Listening to Dieta, he smiled.

"Then I don't think we need to stop by Cambria."

"What? What do you mean...?"

Najin produced a letter. It was one he had tucked deep inside his bag. Dieta's eyes widened when she saw the crest on it. Of course they did—it was the crest of House Trevache.

As though to suggest it was too early to be surprised, Najin unfolded the letter and handed it to her.

It had been written in the hand of Marquis Edelmar, the head of House Trevache. The letter said Najin was welcome to visit at any time and would be treated as an honored guest if he came to the marquisate.

"How did you get this...?"

"I met a knight during the campaign against the Demon Knight. Delivering his final words gave me something of a connection."

Gilbert, a knight of House Trevache.

Najin hadn't expected the connection that began with their conversation to help him in this way. Whatever the case, the invitation was certainly proving quite useful in their present circumstances.

"Honestly..."

Looking at the invitation, Dieta burst out laughing.

"You really are a peculiar person."

3.

"Still, I can't deny that I made an inefficient choice. It would have been better if I'd remained imprisoned in the villa. I'm sorry. I misjudged things back then."

That plea she had uttered in the heat of emotion.

Dieta felt a little ashamed of her past self, who had asked him to take her out of that cage-like place.

Of course, it had allowed her to rest, and she had felt good. She couldn't deny that she was happy to have experienced that fluttering in her chest, either...

But it hadn't been a rational decision.

She knew it wasn't a choice her usual self would have made.

"I was a little emotional. There must have been a better way, something more rational and efficient..."

"How is anyone supposed to be like that all the time?"

Najin cut her off. He had been gathering his equipment and erasing their traces in preparation to leave, but now he looked at Dieta.

"Who can act efficiently and rationally every moment of their lives? Sometimes you just have to go for it, or let your feelings guide you. Isn't it exhausting to think of nothing but efficiency?"

Najin smiled.

"Besides."

Bending his knees, he turned his back to Dieta, signaling for her to climb on. She self-consciously smoothed her hair, then carefully settled onto his back.

"Who says this isn't the best way?"

"What?"

"If we reach our destination like this, doesn't that make it the best way? Isn't this better than staying locked in that villa, putting up with being treated like that?"

Once Dieta wrapped her arms around his neck, Najin stood. Her body swayed abruptly, and she pressed herself against his back.

"Don't you think?"

"Well... yes, it is."

Couldn't they only know whether it was the best choice once they saw the outcome? If they reached their destination like this, wouldn't that make it the best way? That was what Najin was saying. Faced with logic so downright refreshing, Dieta couldn't help laughing.

"Are you confident? I doubt escaping with someone on your back will be easy."

"You're not all that heavy, for one thing..."

Najin chuckled.

"And running away is my specialty."

It wasn't as though he'd only been chased once or twice.