Chapter 1: Messenger of the Duke's House

My name is Sakura. It’s not Sakura as in cherry blossoms, though. My full name is Sakuraile . Probably.

 

I am a girl with jade-green eyes and hair the color of pale cherry blossoms, nearly white, just like my name suggests. I am currently six years old. That is also a “probably,” though.

 

Strangely enough, I have memories of my previous life. In that past life, in a world different from this one, I was a vocational school student attending a design course.

 

I lived alone, away from my parents. My friends around me were a bit… no, actually, they were a pretty intense bunch, but I spent every day happily.

 

One day, after pulling an all-nighter to finish my graduation project and rushing to school, it seems I got caught up in a sudden traffic accident and died quite easily.

 

I recalled those memories when I was around three years old. It happened in a back alley of the Slums, when a man who appeared to be my father beat me severely on the head while he was drunk.

 

Terrified by the sudden beating, I ran away from that place without understanding anything. However, I was a three-year-old at the time. No matter how much I ran, the man persistently chased after me, shouting something. It was nothing but terrifying.

 

It was late at night, in a town I didn’t know. Just as I was cornered in a dead-end street and thought I was going to be hit again, the man stepped on an empty liquor bottle lying there, stumbled, fell, and foolishly hit the back of his head on the stone stairs, dying instantly.

 

On my end, my memories had returned, and I was in a state of panic. Moreover, the person who seemed to be my father had just died right in front of me. Who could blame me for running away from that place?

 

Did I abandon my father? Unfortunately, I have absolutely no memory of him, so I have no emotional attachment, and I didn’t want to think of someone who relentlessly beats a child as a father. Even if that guy had lived, I think I would have run away eventually.

 

Now, escaping the scene was fine, but the trouble was that I had almost no memories up until the age of three. Aside from my past life, I only remembered my own name. Was it because I was beaten too much?

 

At first, I thought I might have possessed someone else’s body, but I have a conviction that this body is definitely mine. I think the beating caused me to lose my memories up to that point, and my past life memories surfaced instead. I wonder if that was good or bad…

 

However, this name of mine… it’s a name I feel like I heard somewhere in my previous life, but I still can’t remember. My memory seems to be a bit muddled.

 

Even my past self feels somewhat like a stranger. Rather than feeling sad or frustrated about dying in an accident, the anxiety of “what do I do now” prevailed.

 

After all, not only did I not know left from right, but this wasn’t even Earth. Seeing two moons floating in the night sky, my heart was crushed by that reality.

 

Anyway, at the age of three, I was forced to live on my own.

 

If a passing medicine-woman grandmother hadn’t picked me up, I would undoubtedly have died.

 

Normally, following a stranger would be unthinkable, but I was just that desperate.

 

There is no way an orphan in the Slums could survive alone. Without a guardian, only death awaited.

 

As a result, looking back now, I think that decision was correct.

 

Granny was a wanderer, seemingly traveling from Slums to Slums in different towns, selling medicine.

 

She was a quiet person who didn’t talk much, but her skills seemed certain. Everyone in the Slums of the towns we visited would often buy Granny’s medicine.

 

Magic exists in this world, and Granny was what you would call a magic potion apothecary who used it to compound medicines.

 

I can’t say she was top-class, but I think she had decent skills as an apothecary. I feel she could have earned more if she curried favor with nobles or merchants, but Granny lived as if avoiding public eyes. I don’t know why, but there must have been some reason.

 

Even though I was small, I helped with gathering and compounding, and grew up quickly. …Well, “quickly” might be a lie. Given the location, nutrition was barely sufficient. I’m thin, and I’m short.

 

Still, just being fed was better than nothing. Even low-quality magic potions made some money, so we were actually doing okay. In some town Slums, many children even died. I was lucky.

 

“Or so I thought…”

 

I stood alone in the empty shack.

 

Just the other day, that apothecary Granny passed away.

 

In the morning, she didn’t wake up no matter how long I waited. When I went to check her bed, she was already cold. She had a peaceful look on her face, showing no signs of suffering.

 

We hardly had any real conversations, but she never threw me out. Tears came to my eyes for the death of my benefactor who raised me for three years. I wanted to repay her kindness at least once…

 

However, ignoring my grief, a man claiming to be Granny’s son barged in rudely and took every single thing in the house that looked like it could be sold for money.

 

From the stock of medicines, materials acting as catalysts, down to the compounding tools—everything.

 

This house was newly built by Granny to live with me. Well, calling it a house is a stretch; it’s no more than a shack no matter how you look at it. I was angry at the son for ransacking it.

 

But I am neither Granny’s daughter nor her adopted child. I was merely a housemate, a freeloader. I couldn’t stop the greedy son who brandished his legitimate rights. The surrounding residents frowned upon it, but since a child inheriting a parent’s belongings isn’t a crime, they just watched in silence.

 

It seems he didn’t intend to steal the house itself, seeing as it was just a shack like this. The son piled his spoils onto a shabby cart and disappeared from my sight. Without taking Granny’s body, which was in a coffin. How could he dare call himself her son?

 

I never heard Granny talk about a son either. They were probably estranged. Looking at that son, I feel like I understand why.

 

This town was Granny’s birthplace. An acquaintance of hers who came to check on things told me just how much of a scoundrel that son was. I really should have punched him at least once.

 

The magic potions that man took are difficult to manage in terms of quality. With no knowledge, I doubt they will last two days in his hands. Rotting, cloudy magic potions will be worth next to nothing. Hmph, serves him right.

 

“What should I do now…”

 

I peeled back a part of the floor where the setting sun was shining and took out a small bag hidden there. It was my secret stash. It was money I had saved up diligently over three years by selling medicines I made myself alongside Granny. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to buy food for a few days.

 

But what do I do after that? The people in the Slums are doing their best just to keep themselves alive; they certainly couldn’t afford to take care of me. I don’t have any close acquaintances either…

 

In that case, I have to earn money myself. Granny acknowledged my skills, but will my medicine sell without any connections?

 

Ah! Wait, the materials and compounding tools were taken too! I can’t make decent medicine like this! Eh, am I checkmated?

 

All that’s left is to degrade myself to pickpocketing or shoplifting… actually, that’s a bit…

 

While I was thinking alone in the empty room with just a coffin, I noticed some commotion outside. What is it? Did that idiot son come back?

 

Just as I tilted my head, suddenly—Bam!—the door was thrown open with force, and a person who looked like a red-haired knight flew in.

 

What, what?! Coming in so suddenly, what is with this person?!

 

“Excuse me! I heard there is a girl named Sakura here, so I came to see! Ooh?!”

 

“…S-Sakura is me, but is there something…?”

 

The knight looked at me with sparkling eyes and, for some reason, an expression of joy, but I was completely creeped out. What is this all of a sudden?! I haven’t even pickpocketed or shoplifted yet!

 

“Pardon me!”

 

“Hyaa?!”

 

The red-haired knight, around twenty years old, stomped into the room and abruptly grabbed my right arm, rolling up the sleeve of my tattered clothes in one go.

 

There is a birthmark shaped like a cherry blossom on my upper arm. I suspect this is the reason I was named Sakuraile .

 

In this world, too, cherry blossoms are called “Sakura,” and Riel apparently means “Flower,” so I wonder if my name in Japan would have been “Ouka.”

 

“Oh…! There is no mistake…! I have finally found you, Lady Sakuraile !”

 

“Huh?”

 

Lady Sakuraile ? Eh, wait, what does this mean?

 

The red-haired knight, gripping the hand of a bewildered me without letting go, pulled my arm and started walking.

 

“Come, let us go to the Duke’s place at once! Come, come, come!”

 

“Eh, wait, hold on…!”

 

“It is alright! From now on, we will be by your si—Guh?!”

 

A sword, still in its sheath, was swung down with a thud onto the crown of the red-haired knight who was forcefully pulling my arm. Another female knight, who had appeared before I knew it, had struck him from behind.

 

“You idiot! Can’t you see Lady Sakuraile is frightened! Calm down a little!”

 

The red-haired knight rolled around in agony, holding his head. That made a nice sound. I felt a little refreshed, though.

 

The female knight crouched down in front of me. She is a blue-eyed woman with long chestnut hair tied in a ponytail. Since she is wearing the same armor as the red-haired knight, they probably belong to the same knight order.

 

“Nice to meet you, Lady Sakuraile . I am Tanya Celesta. I am a knight serving the Philharmonie Duke’s house. That idiot rolling over there is Yuan Polka. He is also a knight of Philharmonie.”

 

Duke’s house?! That’s a noble family line connected to royalty, right?! W-Why would knights from such an amazing place be in this Slums?!

 

“We have been searching for you all this time. You, the young lady of the Philharmonie Duke’s house, who was abducted from her parents three years ago.”

 

“…………………………Huh?”

 

Young lady of a Duke’s house? Huh, did my ears go bad? I feel like this person just said something weird.

 

“It is no wonder you do not understand. However, that hair, those eyes, and that birthmark… You are undoubtedly the young lady of the Philharmonie Duke’s house, Lady Sakuraile le Philharmonie. To have survived for three years… you did well… I am sure the Duke and the Duchess will be pleased…”

 

A single tear rolled down from the eye of the older sister who called herself Tanya.

 

Ummm, I’m troubled if you cry.

 

Duke’s daughter? Me? Since I have no memory before the age of three, I don’t know if it’s true.

 

“I will explain the details inside the carriage. Would you please come with us?”

 

For a moment, the thought crossed my mind: could these people be kidnappers? But kidnappers wouldn’t go through such a tedious process to kidnap a child with no relatives.

 

I don’t know if their story is true yet, but I suppose I can go with them for now. The situation can’t get any worse than this.

 

This place is on the outskirts of the Slums, so hardly anyone comes here. I have no personal acquaintances, and no one would care if I disappeared.

 

There is just one thing left that I must do.

 

“Um, I want to bury Granny properly, though…”

 

“We heard the story from the residents nearby. She is the benefactor who raised Lady Sakuraile until now. In the name of the Duke’s house, we will bury her courteously.”

 

From there, several men who seemed to be Tanya’s subordinates quietly arrived and carried Granny’s coffin to the cemetery at the town’s church.

 

At that time, Tanya gave a large donation to the church priest and asked him to take care of Granny’s grave.

 

I have no more regrets now. I bid Granny farewell once more and boarded the carriage with Tanya—a carriage that looked rather plain for a Duke’s house.

 

By the way, that red-haired knight, Yuan, was made to ride in a different carriage because I was “frightened.” Well, rather than frightened, I was just creeped out, though.

 

“Now then, we shall depart.”

 

Carrying me and my anxiety about what would happen next, the Duke’s carriage began to run into the twilight.