Memories of Summer, with You 1

Soon after the school's summer holiday began, my companion and I had departed the capital city in a carriage drawn by a green horse.

The journey to the Grand Duchy was swift, as if time itself had slipped by.

We chatted and laughed, gazed upon the unfamiliar roads of the capital, enjoyed the meals served at inns along the way, and even quietly dipped our feet into a stream during a brief rest—each moment a shared delight.

Upon our arrival at the Grand Duchy, I went to the inn where we had arranged to meet, while Shasha bid a brief farewell, hastening to her own domain.

That evening, after we had arrived at the inn, I learned that His Grace Arthur had entered the Grand Duchy. I would not see his face until the following morning. As I was about to yield to the soft temptation of my bed and retire early, word came that he had arrived.

I discarded my nightclothes and changed into a simple dress that I could don alone, then hurried down to the inn’s entrance.

“Ah, Spica. I couldn’t wait to see your face, so I pushed the horse too hard, though it was late. You needn’t greet me properly today—you’re here incognito, after all.”

At the ground-floor entrance, Arthur-sama still bore the dusty trappings of travel, smiling gently toward me.

“Arthur-sama, your safe arrival is what matters most, but I was startled to find you here so early—I nearly leapt from bed.”

A rebuke, lightly offered, would not sit well with the guard on duty.

“The daughter of the Earl of Emmental, the prince has ridden without rest, fulfilling his sacred duty. Such conduct must be restrained.”

He is Lord Coroid, commander of the Fourth Guard Cavalry Company and fiancé to Princess Shasha. By rank, he holds the position of lieutenant general and is a man of high military standing. Though his frame is lean and his features somewhat rugged, those who have spoken of him—Shasha among them—say he is straightforward in nature, deeply devoted to those he has come to care for, and would never falter in their protection.

His words just now were meant to shield me from ill repute, I suspect. Had this been another lady, he might have offered apology for the late hour of his visit.

“Thomas, enough. It was I who intruded upon the lady’s quarters at this hour. The breach of courtesy lies with me.”

Arthur, his expression faintly weary, silenced the lord with a quiet word.

The lord bowed slightly. “Ah, I have overstepped.” And so we found ourselves speaking in the lounge past midnight.

It concerned the ceremony for the Sacred Stone offering scheduled for tomorrow.

"In truth, tomorrow’s ceremony is not the offering of the Sacred Stone. Instead, it is the changeover of the Virgin of the Barrier here in the duchy. I was dispatched as the imperial representative of the royal family to oversee this transition."

I had heard that, unlike other duchies, this one was attended by a member of the imperial family, but to learn this was actually true filled me with astonishment—and with dread that such a matter, of such gravity, should be spoken of to one such as myself.

"Sir Arthur, may I inquire about this? I believe it falls under state secrets…."

"Indeed. Yet my father has permitted me to speak of it. And he has asked for our cooperation as well…"

"Cooperation? Is that so?"

If it is the emperor’s command, refusal is not an option. Yet I cannot fathom what role I am meant to play.

I request your participation in the ceremony as attendant to the Heir, and that you grant me a portion of your sacred power.

Upon further explanation, the Heir hails from a distinguished noble family of imperial lineage. Yet her path was complicated: after her mother, the Lady of the House, fell ill with the Monaza sickness and relinquished her noble status, she was born and raised within the Church. It is said that, by tradition, most of her kin would have attended the ceremony, but now, the guardian appointed to serve as her attendant has fallen gravely ill and lies abed.

The Heir possesses a violet sacred power, yet her strength is frail. For the duties ahead, it is believed she must be aided—thus, they ask that I share a portion of my white sacred power. And it is her wish that this be done.

I had believed I had never met the Next Generation, yet I am told she once served at the church in Emmental, and it was there she first came to admire me. A letter from her is then shown to me, as confirmation.

In it, she pleads with me, as if through a sudden and urgent request, that if possible, I would take her hand.

“An honor beyond measure, but—can I truly bear such a duty…?”

I am startled by my own words, so hesitant and weak.

Yet Arthur looks into my eyes with solemn sincerity.

“Rather, only you can bear it. She dedicated herself to becoming someone like you. It is an abrupt matter, and I am truly sorry—but will you accept?”

“If it is my honor to serve, I will give it all I have.”

The next Lady would surely know nothing of the rumors swirling around me now. Yet if she knows me directly, and still calls upon me, then I must do all I can—this thought takes root deep within me.

More than anything, I felt both confusion and joy at the thought of being of service to the Virgin of the Barrier.

The next day, I made my way to the church from morning’s first light. As usual, I purified myself in the bath of holy water, drank a sip of it, and donned a white robe resembling a priest’s vestments before meeting the Lady.

In the chamber I was led to, a woman of my own age stood by the window, wrapped in a pure white gown.

Her face, touched by tension and quiet unease, brightened as though a flower had unfurled—smiling gently at me.

The dark hair, the amber eyes—she was unmistakably the one who had served at the side of the Elder in Emmental.

"Lady Heiress of Emmental! It has been far too long. I am deeply grateful for your kindness in indulging my request."

She bowed deeply, her voice soft and reverent.

"Please rise, Next Heir. I am the one who should be grateful to stand in such a sacred presence."

As I gently urged her to raise her head, the Next Heir—whose name is Lady Lilia—pressed her flushed cheeks with her fingertips, shy and modest.

Then she spoke of our past memories, her voice bright with joy. She recounted even moments I had forgotten myself.

Her eyes, glistening with sincerity, held no falsehoods—only truth—and in that moment, my tension eased.

And she told me why she had come here, as the Next Heir.

Our meeting took place at the church in Emmental—on the very day I first encountered the current lord of my domain. She was born and raised within the church, yet due to her elevated station, she had served diligently at the church of a great estate as an attendant to His Holiness the Pope. On that day, she was the one who, for the final time, guided my hand as I was led blindfolded toward the sanctuary.

And she was the one who witnessed what happened to me that day, I was told.

“I saw an angel that day, as the daughter of the Count of Emmental. Since then, I have strived to become someone as noble as you, someone who can help and support others. And so, even with my meager holy power, I was granted the duty of the Virgin of the Barrier, to serve my nation.”

I am no such noble person as she imagines, yet her resolve reached me.

“I had always believed I would not be chosen. I heard that noble ladies with noble blood often shun the role of the Virgin of the Barrier, yet within the Church it is a revered duty. Still, few are selected—most possess weak or meager holy power. So, if chosen, I wished to fulfill my duty completely. I dreamed, if possible, of serving in Emmental, the very land linked to the beloved Countess of Emmental. Yet, by the color of my power and the strength of my current ability, I am destined for the Grand Duchy.”

She was beautiful. And above all, she was strong in spirit.

She seemed to look up to me, yet I, in turn, was deeply moved by her.

“Are you not afraid?”

I blurted out without thinking.

I had imagined that those chosen as Virgins of the Barrier would bear a heavier burden—more solemn, more tragic. Even if for the sake of the nation, I could not believe there was no fear in surrendering one’s body…

“I am afraid… but I have met the one I wished to see, and this is the greatest opportunity I have to repay a kindness to one who has no family of her own… yet… I am a little afraid. Might you hold my hand during the ceremony, just a little?”

I naturally offered my hand to her, and she placed hers upon mine.

Together, we left the waiting chamber and headed toward the sanctuary, preparing to undergo the ceremony of succession.

Though we were still led through the sanctuary blindfolded, guided by her hand, we reached our destination without stumbling.

There, already waiting, were His Grace Arthur and the pontiff, head of our church.

Though I had been summoned as an attendant, I knew not what I was to do—so I followed the next of kin, who, as promised, held my hand tightly.

We had reached the designated spot. Advancing a step lower from the resting platform, the ceremony began.

When the High One's incantation begins, my vision is enveloped in light. As the room fills with light, the High One confirms the resolve of the Heir-to-Come.

"Reilia Colder, do you vow to dedicate yourself as the foundation of the nation, becoming its guardian of peace?"

Yes. I, Reilia Colder, am one who wishes peace and安宁 for the Empire and all who dwell within it.

Is there anything you wish to say before you go?

Yes. Then, Lady Heir of Emmental, is this acceptable?

When summoned, I straightened my posture, and the next heir smiled at me.

May I address you as Lady Spica?

is asked. For a moment, I do not understand what has been said, and after a brief pause,

Of course, Lady Reilia. She is my dear friend, after all.

and upon replying, Lady Reilia embraced me

"I shall depart," she said, and made her way to the floating berth.

Lady Reilia lay upon the cot, appearing profoundly sacred.

She closed her eyes slowly, clasped her hands over her chest, and began to chant the sacred hymn.

I joined her in the hymn, offering my prayers alongside hers.

Within the room, the light of the gospel danced, and I felt a portion of my own power flowing toward Lady Reilia.

May this power strengthen her.

May it serve as her support.

May her wish be fulfilled…

The light gradually faded, leaving only a faint glow around Lady Reilia’s sleeping cot, while the light upon the other cot vanished completely.

Ah, I understood then—she had entered the sacred sleep of duty.

Yet, strangely, there was no sorrow, only a deep, earnest longing that her noble wish might come to pass.

How long, I wonder?

After a while, gazing at her resting cot, I heard the soft rustle of fabric.

When I turned toward the source of the sound, a beautiful figure was rising from another cot.

"Your Majesty, your long service is deeply appreciated. Thanks to your grace, many of our people have been saved."

The elder bowed profoundly. Her entire being embodied the highest form of gratitude.

I, too, instinctively lowered my head in thanks.

"Your Majesty, the Emperor has sent word that you shall now enjoy a time of honor and rest. I, too, offer you my deepest gratitude and respect."

Arthur spoke these words, gently guiding the former sovereign to her feet from the cot.

"Your gracious words are an honor beyond measure."

Responding with a voice so clear it seemed impossible for one who had only just awakened from a long slumber, the former sovereign was then escorted from the sanctuary by priests who had prepared a wheelchair.

Wherever she goes next—back to her family home, or to the church—she will surely spend her final days in quiet peace...

With a faint melancholy in my heart, I follow Arthur’s quiet prompting and depart the sanctuary.

I turn once more, bowing deeply to Reilia, now the current Sovereign.

"Reilia, I thank you for your devotion... I can find no words that are not commonplace, yet I offer you my gratitude and admiration for having been your friend."

The last sight I have of the bed—how it seemed to flicker, as if saying, *I am holding on*—must have been only in my eyes.

I know, deep within, that I was truly fortunate to witness this rite. I give thanks to miracles and to fate.

And above all, I feel deeper gratitude, affection, and reverence for the Virgin of the Barrier.

Though it was a sorrow to leave before the lingering stillness had fully faded, she made a silent vow within her heart to visit the church again whenever she returned to this land.