A New Light and Shadow

Lady Countess Emmental was unusually animated.

Of course—her own daughter had returned to her side.

After sharing meals and lodging on the journey home, and speaking with her, Stella proved to be remarkably candid and unburdened. Though her manners and etiquette, shaped by peasant upbringing, were lacking, she showed a clear desire to learn and improve—making her a worthy pupil. Her disposition was not unkind.

She had also been told that Stella suffered slightly from the lungs—possibly due to long-term malnutrition, or perhaps the lingering effects of a recent epidemic. Once home, rest and education would be the first order of things.

Each time the girl’s violet eyes, like her own, flickered with life, she resolved to give her this child everything—every good thing she had been unable to offer before.

The news of arrival reached the entrance of the imperial estate, where brothers and senior servants awaited with bated breath.

“Is Elder Brother coming today to meet my elder sister—or my younger sister?”

Spica, too, felt her pulse quicken with anticipation.

“Children raised in the same household take precedence over adopted ones. The noble lady arriving today will be the elder sister. Spica will remain the youngest.” Cain, who had flown in from the estate for this very day, replied. He had arrived moments ago, having transferred through magic, as the term suggests.

“Either way, we gain a beloved younger sister.” Alex chimed in. He stood waiting with his usual spectacles, not the colored lenses he had recently begun wearing—perhaps to better see the sister he had yet to meet.

“That’s right! Since she’s grown among commoners, we’ll make sure to support her properly, brother—Spica!” Fret laughed, though he was mocked by his elder brother, “You of all people, the most careless and least noble of us all, saying that?” Still, he had taken special leave today for this occasion.

It was, in truth, the first time in some while that all the siblings had gathered together.

And as they thought of the one more brother or sister soon to arrive, their faces naturally filled with tension and anticipation.

The carriage arrived precisely as forewarned. A carriage drawn by four Sleipnir steeds pulled up at the mansion’s front entrance. First to step down was their father, the Count of Emmental, followed by their mother, the Countess of Emmental. Both bore visible signs of fatigue. And finally, Stella emerged from within.

Her cheeks, fuller than before departure, bore a healthy flush, and a subtle rose-pink blush graced her small mouth. Her short hair, already beginning to gleam with a hint of sheen, was framed at the crown with a large lace ribbon meant to draw the eye upward. The well-tailored dress, needing no corset, revealed her slender frame. Though she still appeared youthful in every way, to those who knew her from the church, she seemed remarkably like a noblewoman—so much so it would have startled them. The Countess of Emmental’s own masterpiece.

Stepping down from the carriage, and entering the entrance hall after passing through the front door, she stood with quiet dignity, despite the fact that she had just met her family members for the first time.

"Everyone has returned safely. Though I was away for a long time, thank you for guarding the home. And now, at last, I have brought my daughter back to our family. Now, Stella, greet them properly." Encouraged by her father’s words, Stella made a clumsy curtsy. It was not quite as graceful as one might expect from a child at a tea gathering, yet the earnestness in her effort was unmistakable.

"Nice to meet you. I am Stella von Emmental. Please take care of me."

"Such a delightful greeting—truly, one would never guess you were meeting us for the first time! Well done, Stella!" The Countess praised her daughter, even in her clumsiness, with warm affection.

“We have been awaiting your return, Father, Mother—and welcome, Stella, to our home. I am your eldest brother, Cain. Though I reside in our domain most days, I shall be honored to care for you henceforth.” Cain extended his hand, and Stella clasped it with both of hers. “You’re my elder brother Cain, aren’t you? I’m so pleased to meet you! I’ve always been alone, and I’ve long envied those who have brothers. And you’re a prodigy with magic, aren’t you? Might I… learn noble magic too, someday?”

Though momentarily unsettled by Stella’s unrefined manner of speech, Cain found her earnestness endearing. “She is my sister,” he said gently. “I’m certain she’ll master magic in no time.”

“If you’re teaching her magic, I’ll teach her self-defense and horsemanship. I’m the third son—Fret. I serve in the royal guard now and live apart from the estate, but for my sister, I’d return at once.”

Fret stood straighter. Stella, her violet eyes sparkling, clasped her hands before her chest and turned to him as though gazing upon a prince.

“Fret Elder is a royal guard! The elite among elites, guarding His Imperial Majesty! I could only dream of having a brother like you!”

Fret, pleased by the praise, scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.

“I am Alex, the second son. My eyes are weak from illness. I’m sorry—could you come closer so I might see your face?”

As he spoke, he moved toward Stella. She tilted her head, murmuring, “Is that all?” and brought her face so near that their noses nearly touched. Alex recoiled at the sudden closeness. “If you come that near, I’ll see even less… Hah. Stella, you’re quite the one, aren’t you?” He laughed.

"Nice to meet you, elder sister. I am Spica. Please do not hesitate to rely on me should you ever face difficulty. I would be pleased if we might grow close, being of the same age." Spica smiled and stepped nearer. For a fleeting moment, her eyes met Stella’s, and something within her stirred—uneasy, like the cold, hostile gaze she had encountered before in high society. Yet the sensation vanished in an instant, and Stella responded with a bright, radiant smile. "Yes! Please take care of me!" Spica dismissed it as a trick of the mind.

"Mother... I feel unwell... my chest is tight..." Stella suddenly began coughing, a dry, rattling sound. "Are you all right, Stella?" The family gathered around her. "Stella has a slight affliction in her lungs! Though she has only just begun her greeting, we should let her rest now. We shall have her room be the one with the best sunlight and air circulation!"

The room that fits those conditions is Spica’s own chamber. The second option is Cain’s room—too different for Stella, a woman, to use comfortably.

“Spica, I ask you to yield your room for now. We shall prepare a guest chamber for you temporarily, and then settle things properly.”

Having been told so by her father, she could not refuse.

“Yes, I understand. But may I have a moment to move something important?”

“Spica! Stella is suffering so terribly right now—give it up at once!” The usually gentle lady raised her voice. She knew Spica had not refused out of stubbornness, but her desire to have Stella rest soon had overwhelmed her composure.

“For now, let us take Stella to her room. I will help carry Spica’s belongings later,” Cain said, offering assistance. “I understand. I am sorry for being so demanding,” Spica replied, her voice low with apology. It was not that she had been obstinate—she knew well that her desire for Stella to rest had overwhelmed her composure, and she understood that yielding was sometimes necessary.

Stella ascended the stairs, her mother’s arm around her shoulders. Her destination was Spica’s long-used chamber. To follow it with her eyes felt too intrusive, so Spica let her gaze rest softly on the entrance hall instead. The solid oak door, shut tight, seemed heavier, larger, more unyielding than ever.