Chapter 30

My mornings on a day off always begin in the courtyard.

At a time when the inside of the castle is still asleep, I step down onto the stone paving. The momentary coldness brings me back to the me who shoulders nothing.

My mind clears. First, I slowly loosen up my body. I stretch my muscles and regulate my breathing. This time is like a ritual to brush off unnecessary thoughts.

After that, I go for a light jog around the outer perimeter of the castle. Only the rhythmic sound of my footsteps echoes in the clear morning air. I don’t overthink things; I just run. By the time my body warms up and my breathing settles, even the inside of my heart is clear.

Upon returning, I wash off the sweat with hot water. Having a simple breakfast is also my usual routine. Luxurious meals are unnecessary. As long as my body moves well and my head works well, that is enough.

I dedicate the morning to reading. Political history, military strategy, commercial records, topographies of other countries. A room where only the sound of turning pages echoes quietly is the most calming place for me. While following the letters, I think about the shape of the country and the workings of the people.

When afternoon arrives, I head out to the Castle Town accompanied by guards.

There are four guards. Two in front and two in back, following at a slight distance. Not excessive, nor too thin. It’s an arrangement where they can blend in with the people while being able to respond immediately in an emergency.

I don’t use the pretext of an inspection. I just walk. I gaze at the storefronts and listen to the voices of the people. The smells, the atmosphere, the movement of gazes that don’t appear in reports. Knowing those things gives me a far more certain sense of reality.

While walking through the Castle Town, there are a few places where my feet naturally stop.

One of them is a small confectionery shop on the corner of the street. The heat of the oven and the scent of honey always drift out to the storefront.

The sweets served in the castle’s kitchens are refined, but the things baked here possess a somewhat rustic strength. Baked sweets kneaded with wheat, nuts, and dried fruit, held together with honey. The characteristic of this shop is that they are spiced with just a tiny bit of pepper.

It is not just sweet. That flavor that tightens the aftertaste becomes strangely addictive.

Aside from that, I occasionally buy sweets with a stronger sweetness as well.

Things with lots of dried fruit kneaded in, or things using plenty of honey. On days when I use my head too much, or nights after continuing to be considerate of others, I terribly miss that kind of sweetness. …Because I know that they quietly unravel a tired heart.

“Your Highness, again?”

From behind, one of the guards let out a small sigh.

“It is an inspection.”

While answering, I am already holding out a silver coin. The price of ingredients, the degree of baking, the flow of customers. There are countless points to observe. Therefore, this is a magnificent inspection. …Half of it, anyway.

When I receive the package, it is still warm. The smell of honey and spices wafts up softly.

With those steps, I also drop by the liquor store. In the dimly lit interior lined with barrels, a time different from the hustle and bustle outside flows.

Today, one bottle of dry alcohol. I choose one with a clear taste. For these kinds of sweets, this suits them better than sweet alcohol.

At night, after returning to my room, is the true end of this shopping.

I lower the lights and place the package on the desk. The time to return to the me without a title.

I break off one baked sweet and carry it to my mouth. After the sweetness of the honey, the pepper slightly tightens my tongue. When I follow that with a sip of the dry alcohol, the taste settles perfectly.

The scenery of the Castle Town I saw during the day is quietly recalled. The shopkeeper’s hand movements, the customers’ laughter, the stir of the street.

A day that won’t appear in a report finally settles inside me here.

“…The results of the inspection are excellent.”

I mutter to myself in the empty room.

I like sweet things. I also like alcohol.

But more than that, I like this time.

…Perhaps people mature quietly by savoring their time alone.