Stormmond remembered that for the past 5 years or so, even the winters had not been bitterly cold. He had lived through countless seasons over his long life, but not every winter had been the same.
He sensed that the time was now coming to endure a harsh winter.
Because House Rosrad held firm in the north of Caldrea, the people living in the rest of the land to the south could live in safety. And yet those southern bastards didn't seem all that grateful to House Rosrad.
Before he knew it, Stormmond was past seventy. It was an age at which death would come as no surprise.
Beyond the Grimhall Mountains lay Dwich, where the barbarians lived together with nature. There were no castles there and no cities. The land was so harsh that there was neither the means nor any reason to raise large buildings.
To hold back the barbarians who came down from Dwich over the Grimhall Mountains, infantry and cavalry alone were not enough to rest easy. The power of the fire magic that came from Stormmond's fingertips had to be added.
He was not from Unton. Stormmond felt both love and hatred for his hometown, Himister, a great city of Caldrea.
Unusually curious, he had practiced necromancy, which had been designated forbidden magic. Then, because close colleagues and senior mages who found out reported it to the leadership of the Mage Tower, he had no choice but to leave Himister. After he left his hometown, the only place that would take Stormmond in was Unton.
Stormmond was apart from the merry mood of the banquet. He put peanuts from the tray, their shells crumbled away, into his mouth and chewed over and swallowed old memories.
As he danced with Mera, Rafin saw an old man in mage's clothing sitting quietly off in a corner. He remembered seeing him at the jousting arena. The old man's skin was unusually pale. To Rafin, a mage was like a double-edged sword.
Kept on your side and used well, a mage was like gaining a formidable weapon, but if you made an enemy of one and had to face him, he became a fearsome being.
Mera saw Rafin's feet get tangled a few times as they danced. She caught on to the reason right away. Rafin's gaze kept drifting elsewhere. Mera thought she knew whom Rafin was paying attention to.
"I'm starting to feel hurt."
Rafin was startled by what Mera said.
"What's wrong? I said I'd write you letters."
"No, with a lady standing right in front of you, where do you keep looking?"
"To call yourself a lady...... aren't you a little young?"
Rafin had found it a little funny for a while now that Mera kept calling herself a lady.
At 14, she was still a girl, not a lady.
"Excuse me? At 14, I'm as good as a lady, don't you know? Lord Stormmond must be too old to have the energy to enjoy a banquet."
"So that man's name is Stormmond."
"Yes. The one sitting alone over there, the one you kept looking at. You can tell from his clothes, but he's a mage. He has great magical power, and he's entrusted with a very important task in House Rosrad."
Rafin wanted to hear more about Stormmond from Mera. He didn't know whether Stormmond would become a danger to him and to his house, Valone, or not.
He needed to learn about Stormmond.
"A mage, huh....... What kind of magic does he mainly use?"
Inwardly, Mera let out a heavy sigh.
At this rate, it seemed Rafin would be too distracted to dance properly.
"Let's stop dancing and sit down."
Mera took Rafin's hand lightly and headed back to the seats with him.
"Your teacher is really having fun at the banquet."
When Rafin looked at the stage, his master seemed to have changed dance partners.
"I'll say. Once he goes back to Philia, who knows when he'll get to enjoy a banquet like this again, so I guess that's why."
Rafin filled two cups with ale, and they toasted each other. Each of them took a bite of an apple.
"I know roughly about Lord Stormmond from what my father told me."
"I'm curious, because you don't get to see mages easily. I've never once seen one in Philia."
What Rafin said was true. It was the first time he had seen a mage since he was reborn.
"Lord Stormmond is an expert in fire magic. Father doesn't know the details either, but Lord Stormmond is from Himister. They say that in his youth he was researching some kind of forbidden magic there, got driven out, and came here to Unton."
"Forbidden magic? What could that have been?"
"I don't know. Father said he didn't know that much either."
A mage who had even researched forbidden magic. Rafin grew even more interested. Someday he would have a chance to talk with him in person.
The two went on chatting happily. After they had talked like that for a good while, a servant came up to Mera and whispered something in her ear.
"Rafin, I think I have to go now. We still have lots to talk about, but let's do it by letter. You're a squire now, so you'll be living at Barad Castle. Take care of yourself."
When she finished speaking, she kissed Rafin on the cheek.
"All right. I'll write."
Ivan, who was coming back to the table, perhaps tired from dancing so long, saw that.
"Lord Rafin, what was that I just saw?"
Ivan sidled into the seat beside Rafin.
"Exactly what you saw. A kiss on the cheek."
Rafin answered in a brazen tone.
"Do you think I'm asking because I don't know what a kiss on the cheek is?"
Rafin told Ivan about Mera.
"Giving your heart away that easily can be dangerous in the world of nobles. From what you say, she's the one who hung a garland on you, Lord Rafin. House Sirasi is a house with great loyalty to House Rosrad. The daughters of House Sirasi are known for being sacrificed because of their fathers' fierce loyalty."
"Sacrificed?"
"Young ladies tend to be married off for political reasons, for the good of their houses. House Sirasi in particular is a house that is sensitive to the political situation and shows great loyalty."
After hearing Ivan, Rafin thought that Mera's free-spirited nature must clash with the atmosphere of House Sirasi.
"Most nobles use their daughters as tools of political marriage, either to survive or for greater power."
"Indeed. But House Sirasi is a house where that side is strong. A young lady bold enough to give you a kiss on the cheek at a banquet, Lord Rafin, must find the atmosphere of House Sirasi stifling."
"You only saw her for a moment, and you've already figured out Mera's character."
"Earlier, I watched the two of you dance, and Lady Mera was the one taking the lead."
"I thought you were completely lost in dancing with someone else, Master, but you were watching us closely even then."
As Rafin and Ivan were talking, someone came up to them.
"You were with a lady, so I couldn't cut in, but I've found an opening now. I'm Folke, the one who faced you in the final."
Rafin hadn't expected Sir Folke to come all the way over to talk to him.
"...Please, sit here."
"Not only is your lance work excellent, but your way with words must be as well. Even getting a kiss on the cheek from a lady. Haha."
Rafin spoke in a calm tone.
"She's the girl who hung a garland on me after the match."
Rafin found Sir Folke's friendly manner a little strange. They had fought each other, after all.
"Hm. I see. A fine bond. That leaping horsemanship that dealt me a blow was remarkable."
Rafin didn't have anything in particular to say to Sir Folke.
"Is your wound all right?"
"Haha. This much is nothing. I'd almost like to take you to Himister."
"I'm going to start out as a squire of House Rosrad."
"As expected, House Rosrad doesn't let talent slip away."
As he talked with Sir Folke, Rafin's guard slowly came down. Sir Folke was a hot-blooded man in his 20s with a manly character. Going up to talk to the opponent who had beaten you in a match was no easy thing.
"I don't know when we'll meet again, but until then, don't die. Stay alive."
Having finished talking, Sir Folke got up from his seat.
All around, people who got along had gathered in their own groups to chatter and talk.
The music, people's chatter, and laughter all mingled, so Rafin and Ivan had to raise their voices.
"It's getting louder and louder. I'll be going back to Philia tomorrow."
"Already? Rest a day before you go."
"My lord will be wondering how things went here. I should go back as soon as I can, even a day sooner, and tell him."
"Then I'd better write the letter for my father tonight."
"Let's go back to the inn now."
Rafin and Ivan returned to the Golden Cask Inn. As soon as they reached the inn, Rafin borrowed writing implements and paper from the innkeeper.
He sat down at the desk in the room and picked up a quill pen to write the letter.
"Master, pack your things and rest. I'll write to my father first."
"Lord Rafin, you must be tired after attending even the banquet today."
"I'm fine. You're leaving for Philia tomorrow, Master, so I have to finish the letter before then."
Rafin took up the pen and wrote out the opening.
To Father.
A month has already passed since I left Philia. Have you been well all this time? I am, fortunately, in good health, and here I have come to walk a new path.
You will not have expected me to go so far as to win the jousting tournament held at Barad Castle, but I won the tournament.
After the tournament ended, I was appointed squire directly under the Knight Commander of House Rosrad. This is not only a personal honor for me but will also be an important opportunity for our house.
For under the Knight Commander's guidance I will be able to learn martial arts and military strategy, and I will also be in a position to observe the internal affairs of House Rosrad up close.
Master Ivan will leave me at Barad Castle and return to Philia alone. Master urged me to fulfill my role according to the will of House Rosrad.
For House Valone to survive, it is important to watch the state of affairs within House Rosrad closely. Here I will keep my eyes and ears open to grasp the currents of change, and I will send you information regularly.
I will also work to secure my position so that House Valone is not put at a disadvantage.
Please do not lose your health, and lead our house safely. I am sorry that, as your eldest son, I cannot be at your side.
I will do my part here and make certain I can be of help to our house. I will send word again soon.
Respectfully, Rafin Valone.
By the time Rafin finished writing the letter, Ivan had packed everything and was getting ready for bed. Rafin folded the letter carefully.
"Have you finished the letter?"
"Yes."
Rafin handed the letter to Ivan. Then he remembered something he had forgotten for a moment.
"Please deliver the letter to my father. And about the prize money. If you were planning to take your time going back to Philia, I could have given you your share myself. But since you're leaving tomorrow, once I receive the prize money, I'll set aside your share and send it to you by messenger."
"Haha. With everything going on, I'd forgotten all about the prize money."
"You've looked after me for so long, ever since I took my first steps. Of course I have to take care of you. House Valone may not have much power, but I ask you to keep helping my father from here on."
Rafin knew that to earn trust, you had to win people's hearts.
"Don't worry, Lord Rafin. Your winning the jousting tournament is the greatest source of pride in my whole life. After all, I was the very one who taught you riding from the time you took your first steps, and swordsmanship and lance work too. Haha."
"That's right. You have a long journey tomorrow. We should get to sleep quickly."
Rafin only washed his hands and put out the oil lamp.
The next day, Rafin saw Ivan off, came back to the room, and packed his things. He would no longer be staying at an inn in Unton.
He was a squire now, so he had to live at Barad Castle.
Rafin thanked the innkeeper for all the trouble of providing good food and clean lodgings, and headed for Barad Castle.