“What do you mean by that?”
Summer's voice trembled slightly. Her pale, ashen face made her blue eyes stand out even more vividly.
Damien suddenly felt an impulse to touch Summer's eyes.
The piercing blue was treated similarly to purple in the Empire.
A prime example was Russell Bertrand of the Bertrand family.
From Damien's position, having clawed his way up, there were times when the praises directed at him twisted his insides.
“Well, you can interpret it however you like.”
Damien smiled. Summer immediately recognized the expression on his face.
Damien returned once more, as the Pope. With his ethereal and sacred lavender hair cascading down.
“If there’s no evidence that it won’t harm me, I will never believe Your Grace.”
“Faith does not stem from evidence. Doubt may arise from evidence, but faith does not.”
“......”
“It was a pleasant time, Summer.”
As the Pope finished speaking, a strong wind blew in. The anxious voices of the faithful searching for the Pope were carried on the breeze.
“Everyone is looking for Your Grace. We should head down now.”
“Very well. Summer, if you ever find it hard, please seek me out. That would bring me joy.”
The Pope turned first and began to descend the hill. Summer stared blankly at the retreating back of the Pope.
His brilliant hair, shimmering over his white priestly robe, felt not entirely beautiful to her.
* * *
“Mary. I’m back.”
Upon returning to the mansion, Summer greeted Mary with a somewhat familiar tone.
Mary stood up, having been scrubbing the cat paw prints on the window sill, and bowed her head.
“You’ve returned safely today as well.”
“Your tone suggests you’re getting tired of me being safe.”
As Summer playfully remarked, Mary shot back without losing ground.
“That’s not true. I always say, I wish for you to live long, Miss.”
Mary, with tired eyes, lifted a silver tray and placed it on the table. The tray was piled high with letter envelopes.
“What’s that?”
Summer moved closer to Mary and asked.
“They’re all invitations addressed to you. Would you like to see?”
“There are so many.”
“Oh, Miss, you will attend the hunting festival, right?”
“The hunting festival?”
Has that much time already passed? Summer blinked slowly, lost in thought.
At the hunting festival, Julian barely escapes from the ambush of villains with Ian's help.
However, the number of assassins is too great, and Ian and Julian ultimately fall off a cliff.
Below the cliff, in a cave, Julian treats Ian, who was injured while trying to protect him.
Thus, Ian realizes that Julian was the child he knew when he was young.
It was an event that was almost at the peak of emotional awareness. In other words, it meant that the day Summer had to return was now just over two weeks away.
“I have to participate.”
“You’re not thinking of anything else, are you?”
Mary asked while organizing the cleaning tools.
“Mary. If a person doesn’t think, they’re dead.”
“A person can’t just live by thinking.”
“Why does everyone around me only say the right things?”
“That’s quite fortunate for you.”
“……You’re right, Mary.”
Ah. With a short gasp, Summer froze in surprise. It felt so natural.
The way she greeted Mary, and how Mary welcomed her so familiarly.
And the way she teased Mary, who responded with a tired face, felt so natural that she didn’t even recognize it.
“Mary. Don’t get too attached.”
“Why do you tell me not to get attached when you’ve given me a name? You’re the one who acts attached.”
I know. Mary always said she hoped Summer would live in this world.
A name. The world gave Summer the name Summer. Summer gave Mary a name.
The Pope she met today erased her name.
“Ah. Mary. Do you know the name Selena?”
“It’s a very common name.”
“Hmm, I thought so.”
Selena. Who was that person for the Pope to show her grave?
I wonder if she returned well, another face overlapped with the Pope's as he spoke.
‘You can’t return because of me.’
She remembered. Summer had been pulling at her hair, bustling around the room.
Returning. It was a phrase Summer had muttered as a habit. The thought of wanting to return to the original world.
And the Pope particularly emphasized the phrase about returning to Summer. I wonder if that woman named Selena returned well, he said.
The fragments of thought slowly began to coalesce into one. It was a thrill akin to the joy and immersion felt when a deduction falls into place.
“Miss. Your hair is falling out.”
“I said I’m returning. I said I’m returning.”
Summer abruptly stopped in the middle of the room. Pride was clearly reflected in her eyes.
All the accumulated questions were moving in one direction.
“Mary! I need to prepare to participate in the hunting festival. To the boutique!”
Selena. You were also a vessel.
* * *
“Lady Lindsay! Over here!”
“……Lady Legacy?”
Upon arriving at the hunting festival, Summer stopped in her tracks upon seeing the flamboyant Ferotia waving eagerly at her.
Why is she acting so friendly? What is she thinking? With such doubts, Summer slowly approached Ferotia.
Ferotia had already gathered the noble ladies and was leading the atmosphere, having arrived quite early.
The approach of villains was akin to a harbinger of death. Summer had no reason to refuse.
“Lady Lindsay. That outfit is…….”
“Oh. I’m planning to participate in the hunt as well.”
The ladies, centered around Ferotia, were all dressed in extravagant gowns. It was as if they were attending an outdoor party.
In contrast, Summer was dressed in a uniform. The blue uniform suited her quite well.
Her dazzling blonde hair was tied up high, and she had removed all accessories that would be a hindrance.
On the sword she brought, a handkerchief gifted by Julian was tied.
“Lady Lindsay, riding in the forest is dangerous. If you have to handle both the horse and a bow, it’s even more so.”
Ferotia earnestly tried to dissuade Summer, speaking with genuine concern. But Summer was going precisely because it was dangerous.
Julian had healing powers that saved his life, but Summer was just an ordinary human without any special abilities other than having her soul swapped.
“Are you worried for me? Lady Legacy, you’re so kind.”
“Me, kind?”
Ferotia blushed and fanned herself unnecessarily. Summer smiled politely and stepped away.
Just a little distance away, she spotted the Dudley family’s tent.
“Julian.”
“Summer! Are you participating in the hunting competition?”
“Yes. I’m going to give it a try.”
“Please don’t get hurt and come back.”
“I will.”
Summer smiled and lightly hugged Julian. Despite her smiling face, her mind was racing.
She couldn’t remember how Julian ended up in that forest, chased by assassins.
She had come to prevent Julian from being chased by assassins, but she couldn’t clearly recall the original story.
“I definitely knew.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, it was just a mutter. Julian, by the way, aren’t you participating in the hunt?”
“No. I don’t really like killing.”
Well, it would be a bit absurd for Julian, who had vast holy powers to the extent of becoming a saint, to be one who kills.
Summer quickly agreed and winked at Julian while holding up the handkerchief tied to her sword.
“Oh my, Summer…….”
“I’ll be back.”
Summer waved her hand in farewell to Julian.
As she moved away from the Dudley family’s tent, she quickly discovered a crowd gathered in various places.
“What’s that?”
As she got closer, it seemed there was an event where people were offering charms and handkerchiefs to be tied to their swords while wishing for good fortune.
Summer fiddled with the handkerchief Julian had given her and made her way to where her horse was tied.
If someone were to ask if she could ride well, she would say she couldn’t. She could only get on and walk slowly. That was about the extent of her skill.
“I hope I don’t die from falling off before the assassins arrive.”
Summer muttered worriedly to herself as she stroked her horse.
“Are you planning to participate?”
“Ah.”
At the sound of a familiar voice, Summer quickly turned around.
“Duke. I heard you’re quite popular, yet you’re alone.”
The man who approached Summer was Ian Langerster. He looked a bit disheveled, as if he had just escaped.
“Just barely escaped, so keep it down.”
“Hmm. I will.”
“By the way, Summer, what’s with that outfit?”
“I’m planning to participate in the hunting competition as well.”
“Can you ride?”
“I can ride. I can.”
“Ha.”
Ian let out a laugh, seemingly incredulous. Realizing how ridiculous her own words sounded, Summer shyly averted her gaze.
“Cancel it now if you can.”
“No way.”
“Why do you only choose to do what I tell you not to?”
“......”
“Just don’t ride. Summer, get off the horse.”
Ian pressed his fingers to his temples. It seemed Summer’s presence was giving him a headache.
Summer carefully climbed onto the brown horse as Ian instructed. That was all she knew how to do.
Once Ian confirmed that she was properly mounted, he nimbly jumped up and sat behind her.
“You’re too close!”
“I’ll teach you how to ride, so learn it now.”
The techniques Ian taught were amusingly not about how to ride quickly or how to maneuver the horse gracefully through the forest.
“……It seems you already think I’m going to fall.”
“Yeah. So do it properly again.”
She had to practice repeatedly how to stop the horse if it bolted, how to respond if it raised its front legs, and how to fall if she were to dismount.
“Duke. Aren’t you busy?”
“I am.”
“Then please go.”
“Looking at you, I feel like you’ll meet your end from falling off before I can even protect you.”
Summer had rolled around in the dirt so much that her cheeks and hair were already covered in dust.
As she struggled to suppress the urge to give up, fortunately, a servant rushed over from a distance.
“Duke! You need to hurry. Before the competition, His Majesty wishes to see you!”
“I’ll be there soon.”
After briefly responding to the servant, Ian turned sharply to stare at Summer.
Summer was smiling brightly as if to say, “What are you going to do about it?”
The servant noticed the tension between the two and discreetly stepped back to wait at a distance.
“Go quickly.”
“You seem quite happy that I’m going.”
“That can’t be true.”
“Do you have nothing to say to me?”
“Oh. I wanted to see you, Duke. I had something to ask.”
“What is it?”
“Um, about that person.”
“That person?”
Ian’s expression slightly hardened.