0. Cover
0. Title Page
0. Copyright
0. Chapter 1      The Scarecrow and the Fairy
0. Chapter 2      Reunion on the Bloody Highway
0. Chapter 3      Attack!
0. Chapter 4      An Evening at the Doctor’s Inn
0. Chapter 5      The Sugar Apple Is a Deceitful Tree
0. Chapter 6      Born in the Morning
0. Chapter 7      What Became of the Royal Medal
0. Afterword
0. Yen Newsletter

What’s the matter, Anne? You can’t sleep?

It’s all right. We all have those days.

Since you’re awake, why don’t you let Mama tell you a story? An old tale passed down in the Kingdom of Highland, a story about fairies.

That’s right, fairies. They’re people with delicate wings on their backs. We’ve seen them working for wealthy households, haven’t we?

Here, let’s get you wrapped up in your blanket. That’s right, good girl. All right now, I’ll start the story.

A long, long time ago, in the distant past, when humans didn’t even know how to use fire, there was a fairy kingdom here. The kingdom was ruled by a fairy monarch, and all the fairies lived in peace.

The fairies called their kingdom Highland. It means the land that stands at the very top, ruling over every living thing. Back then, the fairies enslaved humans, who were neither intelligent nor powerful.

Yes, it’s true.

Now humans keep fairies as servants, but in the old days, the opposite was true. The fairies controlled the humans.

Got it? I’m going to continue.

The fairies were peace-loving. They always sought out beauty and joy.

For hundreds of years, they lived quietly, without change.

But the humans were different. They changed, bit by bit.

The humans worked hard and learned how to use fire without the fairies noticing. They gained intelligence. Then at last, they became aware. They realized they didn’t have to work for the fairies.

That was five hundred years ago.

The humans staged a rebellion and took over Highland. They made the fairies their servants.

Hmm? Yes, you’re right.

The fairies of today are pitiful creatures. Some people say they are foolish beings who lost to humans because they lived lives of indolence. But I don’t think that’s true. There were fewer fairies than humans, and I think they simply lost in a contest of strength.

Why do I think that? Well, it’s said that fairies were the ones who discovered how to refine silver sugar from sugar apples. Fairies were the first in the world to make sugar candy.

They couldn’t have been fools if they created something so wonderful.

That’s why candy crafters like us mustn’t look down on fairies, even if we’re the only ones who don’t.

I think we ought to treat them as friends.

That goes for you, too, Anne. Anne? …Oh my, you fell asleep. What a good girl you are, Anne. Good night.

Sleep well, smile a lot, and grow up to be a kind girl, as sweet as sugar candy.

The sun rose over the horizon, and the morning rays shone brightly on Anne’s soft, pale cheek.

Sitting atop her wagon, Anne gripped the reins of her horse. A cool breeze blew softly past the hem of her cotton dress. The lace on her hem, simple but clean, fluttered slightly.

Anne took a deep breath and looked up at the sky.

The previous night’s rain had washed all the dust out of the air. The autumn sky was clear and blue.

Today, Anne was setting out on her journey. Still gripping the reins in both hands, she gazed ahead.

The road was muddy, with deep ruts from the wheels of countless wagons.

Anne would be heading down that road alone. Her slender frame was taut with fear and anticipation.

But she felt a faint sense of hope in her heart as well.

Just then, a voice called out from behind her, “Anne!! Wait, Anne!”

Behind Anne’s boxy, horse-drawn wagon was a cluster of simple stone houses that formed Knoxberry Village. This village in the northwest of the Kingdom of Highland had taken care of her for the past six months.

Ever since Anne was born, she had lived her life traveling from one place to another with her mother, Emma. Her time in Knoxberry Village was actually the longest she had ever spent in one place.

A tall, blond young man came running out of the village. He was Jonas, the only son of the Anders family, which ran the confectionery in Knoxberry.

“Wah, I knew it!”

Anne ducked her head and whipped the horse. As the wagon started rolling, she turned back and waved.

“Jonas! Thanks, take care!”

“Wait, please. Anne, wait! Do you hate me?!”

“That’s not why I’m leaving— Don’t worry about that—,” Anne answered loudly.

Catching his breath, Jonas shouted, “Well—well then, wait up!!”

“I’ve already made up my mind. Good-bye!”

The distance between them grew quickly. Jonas gradually slowed his pace and came to a stop. Still panting, he watched Anne in a daze.

Anne gave one last big wave, then turned forward again.

“Watch over me…Mama.”

In early spring of that year, Anne’s lively and cheerful mother, Emma, had fallen ill. They’d been passing through Knoxberry Village when it happened, and that was where they had stayed.

The people of the village were very kind to Anne and Emma, despite the fact that they were outsiders. They had offered to let the pair stay until Emma was well. Jonas and his family had lent a room free of charge to both mother and daughter during that time, perhaps out of camaraderie for fellow artisans.

However, Emma never recovered from her illness. She had passed away a few weeks prior.

“Find your own path in life and walk boldly down it, Anne. You can do anything. You’re such a good girl, Anne. Don’t cry.”

Those were Emma’s last words.

Then came the arrangements for the funeral and the formalities of a burial with the state church. While she was being hounded by such duties, Anne had let her sadness slide right off the surface of her heart. She’d grieved, but she hadn’t been able to cry out loud.

Emma was now resting in a corner of the Knoxberry Village Cemetery. Thinking about it filled Anne’s heart with a dismal feeling.

Half a month after her mother’s death, Anne had finally finished all her various tasks and decided to begin her journey.

Three nights earlier, she’d informed the members of the Anders family, who had been taking care of her, that she was leaving.

“Anne, there’s no way you can continue traveling on your own. Shouldn’t you stay here with us in the village? And…you might…become my bride?” Jonas had whispered, grabbing Anne’s hand after she’d announced her decision. He had pushed his soft, golden bangs out of his face, smiled, and looked at Anne with his sparkling eyes.

“I’ve always had feelings for you, Anne.”

For half a year, Anne had been sleeping under the same roof as Jonas, but they’d never really had an intimate conversation. She never expected someone like him to propose to her.

Jonas was handsome, and his blue eyes were especially lovely. They were like the luxurious glass orbs imported from the kingdom in the south.

Even though Jonas was basically a stranger, she felt bewildered when he looked at her with those eyes.

Anne wasn’t unhappy to have received his proposal. But she was determined to go.

She knew that Jonas might stop her if she went to say good-bye. That’s why she had tried to leave the village stealthily, in the early morning. Even so, he must have noticed. Jonas had come after her.

“Marriage…” The word left her mouth absentmindedly. Anne felt the concept had absolutely nothing to do with her.

Jonas attracted a lot of attention from the girls who lived in the village.

Of course, one reason for his popularity was the fact that his family ran a prosperous confectionery shop.

Despite living in a provincial town like Knoxberry, Jonas was a descendant of the founder of the Radcliffe Workshop, one of the largest factions of candy crafters.

Anne had heard that there was a possibility he might be chosen as the Radcliffe Workshop’s next maestro.

Before long, Jonas would probably be headed to the royal capital, Lewiston, for his training. That was the big rumor going around the village.

As the leader of a faction, if he was lucky, there was a possibility he could even become a Viscount.

To the daughters of a village in the countryside, Jonas must have seemed like a prince.

On the contrary, Anne was petite, despite being fifteen years old. She was skinny, with long arms and legs, and had fluffy hair the color of barley. Everywhere she went, she got teased for looking like a “scarecrow.”

As far as her estate was concerned, she owned one old, boxy wagon and one worn-out horse.

The wealthy blond prince had proposed marriage to the poor little scarecrow. It was like some sort of dream.

“Well, whatever. There’s no way that the prince is truly in love with a scarecrow like me,” Anne mumbled with a bitter smile, then she whipped the horse.

Jonas had always been a playboy. He was especially sweet to all the girls. Anne was certain the only reason a boy like him would ever propose to a girl like her was that he felt sorry for her circumstances.

Anne didn’t want to get married out of pity. The idea of marrying a prince and living happily ever after—like a princess in a fairy tale—didn’t seem like much of a life goal.

Anne didn’t hate Jonas. But the thought of living her life with him didn’t appeal to her.

She wanted to stand on her own two feet and carve her own path in the world. That was the kind of life she wanted to lead.

Anne’s father had been drafted to fight in a civil war not long after she was born, and he had died.

But Emma had raised Anne as a single mother and lived on.

She was able to do so because of her impressive skills as a Silver Sugar Master.

The Kingdom of Highland had many candy artisans, but Silver Sugar Masters, who were recognized by the crown as the best of the best, were rare.

Emma had become a Silver Sugar Master at the age of twenty.

Sweets made by ordinary candymakers couldn’t compare with those made by Silver Sugar Masters, which fetched a much higher price. But in the villages and towns out in the countryside, expensive candies didn’t sell very well.

In Lewiston, there was a much greater demand. However, famous Silver Sugar Masters flocked to the royal capital, so it was difficult to compete with them and come out on top.

Thus, Emma had chosen to travel throughout the kingdom, seeking out customers who needed her sugar candy.

Strong-willed with boundless cheerfulness, Emma had always loved traveling.

Traveling was hard and dangerous, but she’d earned her own living and forged her own path. It was fun.

It would be so great if I became a Silver Sugar Master just like Mama.

Anne had always vaguely felt that way. So when Emma died and Anne had to decide how she would live the rest of her life, the deep love and respect she had for her mother had sprouted in Anne’s heart as determination.

I will become a Silver Sugar Master.

But becoming a Silver Sugar Master was no ordinary feat. Anne knew that very well.

Every year in Lewiston, the royal family sponsors the Royal Candy Fair. In order to become a Silver Sugar Master, Anne would need to enter the fair and win the royal medal awarded to whoever earned first place.

Emma had entered the Royal Candy Fair when she was twenty and been awarded a royal medal. After that, she had been allowed to call herself a Silver Sugar Master.

Sugar candy is made using silver sugar refined from sugar apples. Such candy cannot be made from any other type of sugar. This is because no other sugar produces such beautiful results.

Silver sugar candies are used in all sorts of ceremonies, from weddings and funerals to coronations and coming-of-age celebrations.

It is even said that without the candy, no ceremony can begin.

Silver sugar invites joy and repels sorrow. Some say it holds the promise of sweet happiness, and it is considered a sacred food.

It is believed that in the age when Highland was still ruled by fairies, the fairies extended their life spans by consuming silver sugar candy.

Beautiful candy made with silver sugar contains a mysterious energy known as “essence.”

Of course, humans cannot extend their life spans, not even by consuming silver sugar or sugar candies.

But they are able to take in some of that mysterious energy.

In fact, when humans consume beautiful sugar candy, unexpected good fortune often works its way into their lives, and they become luckier.

This is something humans came to understand after several hundred years.

It is also why monarchs stipulated strict qualifications for Silver Sugar Masters.

The royalty and nobility want the most sacred and alluring sugar candy to bestow upon themselves numerous blessings and great happiness. Even at the great autumn festival held to pray for the tranquility of the kingdom, the way the candy turns out may determine the fortunes of the country.

As always, the annual Royal Candy Fair would be held in Lewiston at the end of autumn.

Anne intended to participate and compete for the title of Silver Sugar Master, which was granted to only one person each year.

She had heard, now that Emma had passed away, there were twenty-three Silver Sugar Masters in the kingdom.

It was not a title that could be easily won.

But Anne was confident. After all, she hadn’t spent fifteen years as an assistant to a Silver Sugar Master for nothing.

Anne’s wagon rolled down the road, with fields of wheat stretching out to the left and right.

By the time the sun was high in the sky, she had arrived in Redington, the provincial capital and the largest town in the vicinity of Knoxberry.

Redington was a castle town, with streets radiating outward from a round central plaza. Up on a hill stood the castle from which the province of Redington was governed.

As Anne advanced slowly through the town on her wagon, she saw a crowd had formed in front of her and was blocking the street.

Anne shrugged and alighted from her wagon. She tapped lightly on the shoulder of a farmer who had his back to her.

“Hey, excuse me? What’s everyone doing? The street is blocked, and I can’t get my wagon through.”

“Well…you can pass if you want, but are you brave enough to cut across that scene, young lady?”

“What scene?”

Anne peeked under the farmer’s arm to see what everyone was staring at.

She spied a brawny man standing in a patch of mud, with a bow slung over his back and a sword hanging from his belt. He wore leather boots and a vest made of animal hides. He looked like a hunter.

“You little bastard!” the hunter shouted as he stomped again and again on a little lump on the ground. Mud splashed into the air. Each time the hunter’s foot fell, the lump made a pitiful noise.

Looking carefully, Anne could see that the mound in the mud had the shape of a person, though palm-sized. On the back of the tiny individual lying facedown in the mud was a single dainty, translucent wing that was somehow unsoiled by the muck.

“Is that a fairy?! How cruel!” Anne cried quietly, and the farmer nodded.

Fairies are humanoid creatures who dwell in forests and meadows. They vary greatly in shape and size, but a distinctive characteristic shared by all are the two translucent wings on their backs.

Fairies have special abilities, and they can do all sorts of jobs well.

Anne had heard that royalty, nobles, and knights employed many fairies for different purposes.

Even common, middle-class households might have one or two to help with the housework.

In Jonas’s house, there was a fairy named Cathy who was about the size of a palm as well. She looked after Jonas’s daily needs and helped with the preparation of sugar candy.

“It’s one of the fairy hunter’s worker fairies. Looks like it tried to take its wing back and escape.” The farmer lowered his voice and pointed stealthily toward the hunter.

In the fairy hunter’s hand was a single thin wing. It matched the one on the back of the fairy in the mud.

In order to control fairies, slavers tear off one wing and keep it.

A fairy’s wings are the source of their life force. A fairy can live with one wing separated from their body, but if that wing is damaged, the fairy weakens and dies. To compare it to human physiology, the wings are like the fairy’s heart. Any human would tremble in fear if someone else held their heart captive. No one can disobey the person gripping their heart.

So by stealing one of their wings, slavers can make their fairies follow their commands.

But fairies don’t want to be slaves. Many of them try to take back their wings and escape without their masters’ knowledge.

“Even for a fairy, that’s pretty cruel treatment.”

“That fairy is gonna die!”

The people in the crowd murmured to one another, but no one moved.

Anne looked up at the farmer beside her and the other men around her.

“Hey, everyone! Are you going to let him get away with such heartless behavior?!”

But the people around Anne averted their eyes, seemingly fearful.

The farmer mumbled weakly, “I feel bad for the poor thing, but that fairy hunter has a violent temper. I’m afraid he’ll retaliate… Besides, it’s only a fairy…”

“What do you mean, ‘only a fairy’?! If we hesitate, he’s going to die! Fine, I’ll go!”

Anne pushed past the farmer and stepped forward.

“Hey, a young girl like you shouldn’t go out there!”

“I am not a child. I’m fifteen. In this country, girls are considered adults at age fifteen, right? So I’m legally an adult. I would be ashamed of myself for the rest of my life if, as a full-grown adult, I stood by and watched a fairy get tortured to death. This is no joke.”

Anne drew herself to her full height and walked quickly toward the fairy hunter.

Perhaps because he was so agitated, the hunter didn’t notice Anne. Trampling the fairy under the sole of his boot, he gripped the wing in his hands.

“Let me show you what I’m gonna do to your wing!”

“Stop it, you insolent dolt! Stop it!!”

The fairy bravely flailed his little arms and legs, kicking up mud. He shrieked in a shrill, piercing voice.

However, the fairy hunter mercilessly squeezed the wing between his fingers.

Down in the mud, the fairy let out another scream.

“You filthy thievin’ fairy, I’ll kill ya!”

The hunter pulled harder, as if to tear the wing in half. That was the moment Anne stepped up behind him. She bent her knees and charged forward.

“Oh, excuse me!!”

The hem of Anne’s dress flew up as she shouted. With one foot, she delivered a powerful kick to the back of the fairy hunter’s knee. It was Anne’s signature move, her knockout blow—the knee buckler.

The fairy hunter was caught off guard, and his knee gave way immediately. He lost his balance. His mouth was still open in surprise when he fell face-first into the muddy street.

In the same instant that the curious onlookers burst into laughter, the fairy, suddenly released from under the man’s boot, sprang up nimbly. Anne hopped over the man’s head and quickly grabbed the fairy’s wing from his enslaver’s hand.

“Why, you!!” the hunter shouted, lifting his muddy face.

Anne effortlessly jumped out of his way. She extended the recovered wing to the fairy, who was standing there looking dazed.

“Here. This is yours, right?”

The fairy seemed startled, but he quickly snatched his wing back. His face was covered in mud, and only his blue eyes sparkled with a strange light.

The fairy looked up at Anne and shouted, “Tch! Don’t expect me to say thanks to a human!!”

Holding his wing tightly in his arms, he dashed past the feet of the onlookers, who gasped and made room for him to pass. The fairy cast a backward glance at the astonished crowd, then disappeared toward the outskirts of town like a swift wind.

Anne shrugged. “Oh well, I am one of those awful humans, I suppose.”

Dripping muddy water from his chin, the fairy hunter stood up and started shouting, “How’re you gonna repay me, little girl?! You just let my valuable worker fairy escape!!”

Anne turned to him and said, “But, mister, you were going to kill that fairy, weren’t you? So what does it matter as long as he’s gone?”

“What’d you say?!”

The enraged fairy hunter raised his arm.

But the crowd surrounding them immediately voiced their collective outrage.

“You’re an adult—are you going to raise your hand against a child?!”

“That girl is right!”

“You’re acting barbaric!!”

The man flinched under the harsh criticism of the crowd. Anne looked the man directly in the eye, without fear.

The fairy hunter let out a small groan and lowered his hand.

“Thank you,” Anne said sarcastically. “I’m glad you’re such a kind person. And since you’re so kind, I know that you’re going to treat fairies nicely from now on, too. How wonderful!” She smiled at him sweetly.

The fairy hunter’s expression was inscrutable, neither angry nor smiling.

“Bye, then!” Anne said a simple farewell to the fairy hunter, passed through the crowd that was praising her enthusiastically, and returned to her horse and wagon. “That makes me so mad. People are so cruel. Treating fairies badly just because they’re fairies!” Anne mumbled angrily.

Fairies are built a little differently from humans. But they have thoughts and feelings, and even speak human languages.

Anne didn’t think of them as being any different. Her conscience ached at the idea of using fairies as slaves.

That was why Emma had never employed a fairy.

We don’t use fairies.

That had been Emma and Anne’s belief. And yet—

Anne’s expression suddenly turned dark.

“…And yet…I’m on my way…to do something awful, too…”

Anne whipped the horse again, and the wagon started rolling.

When she reached the center of the city, she called out to several children who were playing nearby and handed them some coins. She asked them to keep an eye on her wagon for a little while. The children happily accepted.

Anne alighted from her wagon and headed for the round plaza.

There, she found a disorderly collection of tents.

The tents were made of cloth varnished with animal tallow, and they had a distinctive greasiness to them. Underneath were rows of all sorts of wares, from foodstuffs to cloth to copper tools. It was a marketplace, bustling with shoppers.

A pungent sweet and sour smell tickled Anne’s nose, drifting over from the tent where one could drink warm grape wine. From autumn through winter, it was a staple of the marketplace.

Anne passed through the crowded plaza, where people kept brushing shoulders, and emerged in an area with little pedestrian traffic.

This block was nearly deserted. There were plenty of shops set up but very few customers.

She looked at a nearby tent and saw several cages made of braided vines suspended from a horizontal bar.

Inside the cages were tiny fairies, each with only a single translucent wing on their back. Five or six of the cages hung in a row. The little fairies sitting inside regarded Anne with vacant eyes.

In an adjacent tent were three fairies covered in dense fur, about the size of puppies. They were bound together with chains linking their collars. Each had one wilted, transparent wing dangling from their back. The furry fairies bared their teeth and growled at Anne.

She was in the fairy marketplace.

Fairy hunters capture fairies in forests and fields and sell them to fairy dealers. The dealers pluck off one of each fairy’s wings, and after determining a suitable price for each piece of merchandise, the captives are then put up for sale in the fairy markets.

For someone headed to the royal capital, going through Redington was out of the way. The reason Anne had stopped by despite the detour was because she knew the town had a reputable fairy market.

Anne approached one of the tents and addressed the fairy dealer.

“Excuse me, do you have any warrior fairies for sale?”

The dealer shook his head. “I haven’t got any, no. Those things are dangerous.”

“Well then, do you know of anyone in this market who does have warrior fairies?”

“Just one place. The old man in that tent by the wall has one, but I wouldn’t recommend it, missy. It’s defective.”

“Is that so? Well, anyway, I’ll go take a look. Thanks.” Anne thanked the man and walked away.

Fairy dealers separate fairies into different categories for sale based on their abilities and appearances.

Most are sold for their labor as “worker fairies.”

Fairies who are especially lovely or rare are sold as “pet fairies” to serve as living ornaments.

Fairies who are particularly violent are used as escorts and bodyguards, so they are sold as “warrior fairies.”

Anne had come to the fairy market in order to purchase a warrior fairy.

After Redington, Anne was going to Lewiston to participate in the Royal Candy Fair.

The road that would take her from the western part of the kingdom, where Knoxberry and Redington were located, all the way to Lewiston was known as the Bloody Highway. It was a dangerous trail surrounded by wilderness, with no towns or villages along the way. Because the soil was poor, there were many bands of robbers driven by hunger, as well as countless wild beasts.

Even Emma had avoided the Bloody Highway on her travels.

There was another route, a safer road to Lewiston that one could follow by detouring to the south.

But that road wouldn’t get Anne to her destination in time for that year’s candy fair.

Anne wanted to make it there, no matter what it took. She knew her reasons were extremely sentimental, but if she didn’t cling to them and continue toward her goal, her legs were liable to buckle beneath her.

I am definitely going to become a Silver Sugar Master this year. I’ve made up my mind.

She looked up with determination.

In order to go down the Bloody Highway, Anne would need a bodyguard.

Unfortunately, she had been unable to find anybody she could trust.

That left a warrior fairy as her only option. Fairies cannot disobey the master who holds their wing. As bodyguards, they are extremely reliable.

Anne’s great wish was to become a Silver Sugar Master that year. In order to do so, she was prepared to bend her conviction not to enslave fairies.

When she got to the area the first dealer had pointed out, she stopped and looked around.

She wasn’t sure which tent had the warrior fairy for sale.

The one to her left held palm-sized fairies in suspended cages. They were likely being sold as worker fairies.

The tent to her right had adorable fairies, about the size of a grain of wheat, inside glass bottles on a table. At that size, there was no way they could be workers, so they were probably pet fairies—sold to children to play with, like toys.

Then at the end of the row, directly in front of her, was a tent that had only one fairy for sale.

The tent had a sheet of leather spread out under it, and the fairy was sitting on top of the sheet with one knee bent. There were chains around his ankles, attached to an iron stake driven into the ground.

The fairy looked like a young man and appeared to be about two heads taller than Anne.

He had on black pants and boots and a loose cloak. The all-black outfit was probably something the fairy dealer had dressed him in to boost his selling price. With his outfit, this fairy stood out from the rest.

He had black eyes and black hair. There was an intense aura about him. His pale skin, which looked like it had never so much as seen sunlight, was characteristic of fairies.

Upon his back was one flexible, translucent wing. It gave the impression of a veil, spread out on the leather mat.

The fairy certainly looked beautiful. There was something undeniably noble about him.

Anne had no doubt that this was a pet fairy. He seemed like he would fetch a high price as an ornament for a rich noblewoman.

The fairy had his eyes cast downward under dark, sleek bangs. The languid afternoon sunlight danced across his eyelashes.

Just looking at him sent a shiver up Anne’s spine.

The word beautiful doesn’t do him justice…

Anne stared at the fairy, drawn in by those long eyelashes. Suddenly, he looked up.

Their eyes met, and the fairy stared directly at Anne.

He frowned for a moment, as if considering something. However, he seemed to quickly figure out whatever it was that had been perplexing him and mumbled, “I thought I knew you from somewhere. You look like a scarecrow.”

He then abruptly averted his gaze from Anne, as if he had lost all interest.

“H…h-how rude… What a thing to say to a girl at the peak of her beauty!”

Anne clenched her fists in response to the fairy’s words.

“Yours doesn’t amount to much,” the fairy said bluntly, still looking away.

“What was that—?!”

The person selling the rude fairy was an elderly fairy dealer. He sat smoking a pipe beside the tent.

When he saw Anne getting angry, the fairy dealer spoke up. He sounded exasperated. “Sorry about him, miss. This one’s got a foul mouth. He says nasty things to anyone who walks by. Please don’t pay him any mind.”

“I do mind! This is probably none of my business, but you’ll never sell a pet fairy with a sharp tongue like that! Maybe you should give up on selling him already and just let him go?!”

“He’s no pet, miss. This here’s a warrior fairy.”

Anne’s eyes went wide. It seemed this was the tent she had been told about, the one with the warrior fairy for sale.

But she couldn’t believe it.

“A warrior fairy?! It can’t be! The way he looks, it would be more appropriate to sell him as a pet. I’ve seen warrior fairies before. They were incredibly large and built like boulders.”

“Well, he’s a warrior, all right, and a fine specimen. Three fairy hunters died catching him.”

Anne crossed her arms, openly suspicious. “The man over there said this fairy was defective. You say he’s a warrior fairy, but maybe you’re just making that up so you can off-load a foulmouthed pet fairy?”

“Reputation is a fairy dealer’s most important asset. We don’t lie.”

Anne looked back at the fairy.

There are no villages or towns along the Bloody Highway, which spans about twelve hundred karons.

Anne wondered whether she would be able to traverse it safely.

She glanced at Challe, who sat next to her on the wagon.

He had a beautiful face. She had never seen such an elegant warrior fairy before, and that worried her.

She wondered if Challe would actually be useful as a warrior.

Now that I’ve purchased him, all I can do is trust him, but…

The Royal Candy Fair was only half a month away. It would take them nine days to cross the Bloody Highway.

Once they arrived in Lewiston, Anne would have five days to prepare before the candy fair commence. It was going to be close.

They had set off at dawn but had just barely started down the highway. They still had a long way to go, and their time was limited.

Anne wanted to get as much distance behind them as possible during the day, when it was still relatively safe.

From time to time, she identified black shapes that looked like packs of wolves up on distant crags, but they showed no signs of coming down from the mountains.

The pair made fine progress down the road until early afternoon.

It was a few hours until sunset.

Anne expected them to reach the next way station, where she had decided to spend the second night, with time to spare.

When they got there, they would be two hundred karons from the start of the highway, one-sixth of the way through their journey.

As the wagon cruised on through the quiet, monotonous scenery, the sound of horses whinnying suddenly filled Anne’s ears. At the same time, the high-pitched clang of steel striking steel pierced the air.

Startled, Anne yanked on the reins. As the wagon slowed to a stop, she looked toward the source of the commotion.

Just ahead on the road, there was a big cloud of dust.

In the center of it was a brand-new boxy wagon. Its back was to Anne, so she couldn’t spot the driver. She could, however, just make out a hand wielding a sword on the other side of it.

Surrounding the carriage were ten men on horses, riding round and round in circles, whooping and hollering loudly. They were all dressed differently, but each had a bit of cloth tied around their head, concealing their identity. They were bandits targeting travelers.

“Oh no!”

The blood drained from Anne’s face. She knew that if she encountered bandits, just escaping would be considered a victory. She shouldn’t even try to help whoever was already under attack. She could see the outcome with her own eyes.

All travelers understood that rule and did not resent one another for following it.

In this situation, the most sensible thing for her to do would be to take refuge in a way station. But the way station where they’d spent the previous night was far behind them.

Anne looked on either side of the road for a place to hide, but the surrounding area was filled with only empty fields of long grasses. There were no tall trees nearby and nowhere to hide a whole wagon.

As she was looking around, two of the riders in the ring of bandits stopped circling.

They seemed to have noticed Anne’s wagon and turned their horses’ heads toward her.

“Oh no, they’re coming this way!!”

Anne shrieked and grabbed at Challe’s sleeve. She then finally remembered something.

“H-hey, you!! Listen, Challe! You are a warrior fairy, right? Drive those bandits away!”

Challe looked at Anne wearily. “What a pain…”

“We’re in danger! Please!!”

As she pleaded with him, Challe grabbed Anne’s wrist and pulled her hand off his sleeve. Instead, he snatched her arm and jerked her toward him.

“Challe?! Wh-what?”

Challe brought his face close to hers and coaxed, “Don’t ask me to do it. You’re supposed to command me, right?”

Despite the situation, Anne’s gaze was drawn to the long lashes framing Challe’s eyes as he peered into hers. His voice was oddly sensual.

“Uh, too close! Hey, you’re too close, Challe!! Back up! Just go fight!”

Blood rushed to Anne’s face. It was no time to be blushing, but she couldn’t hide her agitation.

“Your face is red.”

“J-j-j-just go, please!”

“How amusing.” Challe chuckled condescendingly. Without a doubt, he was toying with her.

“Challe! Go now, please!”

“I told you, you’ve got to order me.”

“Order you?! Look, they’re coming!”

“Go now, or I’ll tear your wing. If you command me like that, I’ll go at once.”

“What are you talking about?! It doesn’t matter—just go!”

Anne was frightened, and she wasn’t used to commanding fairies. She totally forgot that she was in possession of Challe’s wing, his very life.

“Command me.”

Anne squeezed her eyes shut so she couldn’t see Challe’s beautiful face. And then^______ “I said go! If you don’t go, I’ll hit you!!”

She issued the most violent order she could muster.

When he heard it, Challe shrugged.

“Well…all right, then. Here I go. As you command, mistress scarecrow.”

Challe let go of Anne’s arm and jumped down lightly from the wagon.

He walked slowly toward the approaching horsemen.

He casually stretched the palm of his right hand out in front of his chest and narrowed his eyes, almost like he was smiling. The single wing on his back shuddered slightly. The wilted wing unfurled slowly. One section of it caught the sunlight and shone an assortment of colors.

From all around Challe, sparkling beads of light started streaming toward his open palm.

Before Anne’s eyes, the beads of light condensed, forming a long, thin shape that turned into a sword that radiated a silvery gleam.

A sword…?! He can do that?! Then Challe really is—

Challe gripped the newly formed blade. He held it down at his side.

—a warrior fairy!

Suddenly, Challe broke into a run.

He was quieter than the wind, not making a single sound as he raced with his body low to the ground.

In the blink of an eye, he was within reach of the approaching horses and swung his sword at their legs.

In a single stroke, he simultaneously lopped off both of the horses’ front legs. When their mounts suddenly collapsed, the two bandits were thrown violently to the ground.

Without even watching his first two targets fall, Challe dashed over to the rest of the riders.

The other bandits noticed Challe, but no sooner had they turned to look in his direction than the swordsman lopped off their horses’ legs, too, one after another. Five more horses fell to the ground.

There were three bandits left on horseback. They shouted angrily and slashed at Challe.

One of them swung a sword down at him, and Challe lopped off his assailant’s whole arm.

Their leader blanched. “Retreat!! Retreat!!” he shouted, turning his horse back toward the foothills.

The bandits who had been thrown to the ground stumbled after him. Even the man who’d lost his arm spurred his horse with a desperate expression on his face, groaning as he retreated.

The cloud of dust quickly blew away, revealing the seven writhing horses with their legs severed, as well as the three corpses of bandits who’d died on impact when their mounts went down. The air was deadly silent.

Challe nimbly twirled his sword, shaking off the blood. Then, he deliberately thrust his blade into each of the struggling horses’ necks, ending their lives one after another.

Anne’s fingers felt cold and were trembling slightly.

She averted her eyes, trying not to look at the horses that Challe had put out of their misery. Given the severity of their injuries, there was no way to save them. It was much more compassionate to kill them than allow them to suffer needlessly.

Even though she understood that, Anne still couldn’t bring herself to look at them directly.

Indeed, Anne had been the one who’d insisted Challe help the people in the other wagon.

But she had never expected her command would result in the deaths of seven horses and three humans, all in the blink of an eye. A single word from her, and three men were dead, bandits though they were.

Anne was filled with surprise and fear at the thought that her orders could bring about such results.

So this is a warrior fairy…

While she was momentarily frozen in place, the driver of the boxy wagon ahead of her got down from his seat.

Anne recognized the other driver, making her doubt her own eyes.

“It can’t be… Jonas?!”

Jonas stood in a daze as he watched Challe put the horses down, and at the sound of Anne’s voice, he looked up.

“……Huh? ……Anne?”

Once he’d finished killing all the horses, Challe held his sword by his side. Just like when he’d formed the blade, it gradually turned into beads of light and dispersed.

Anne quickly drove her wagon forward, steering around the bodies of the horses and bandits who’d been mercilessly slaughtered. She tried to look at them as little as possible.

When her wagon was in line with Jonas’s, she pulled to a stop.

Anne hopped out of the driver’s seat and rushed to Jonas.

“What are you doing here, Jonas?!”

“Anne! Is he your warrior fairy?! Then that means you’re the one who saved me?! Ah! This must be fate! Anyway, I’m glad I found you! You set out half a day before me, so I thought you’d be much farther along.”

Jonas seemed excited, and he grasped both of Anne’s hands tightly in his.

“I stopped by Redington, so… Wait, that doesn’t matter. Why are you in a place like this, Jonas?”

“I followed you. It’s dangerous to let you travel alone, so I persuaded my parents, readied a carriage, and followed you. I’m going with you.”

“Why?!”

“Why…? I only need one reason. You must know how I feel about you.”

Anne was stunned by his words.

“Huh?”

“I love you, Anne. I want to go with you.”

“Um…Jonas… I’m very happy to hear that, but…”

Anne gently pulled her hands from his grip and moved away.

“But, Jonas, I think you’re badly mistaken when it comes to your feelings for me. Surely, you can’t have fallen for me. There’s just no way. I think you’re confusing the pity you feel toward me with love.”

Anne’s appearance was quite plain, and she didn’t go out of her way to be charming.

She had never thought of herself as appealing.

In fact, although Jonas and Anne had spent half a year in close quarters, their relationship was still more distant than even a simple friendship.

Yet Jonas had proposed to marry her, despite the distance between them.

Anne could think of no reason why he would do that, except out of pity for a girl who had just lost her mother.

She was sure Jonas must have felt sorry for her and confused that feeling for love, mistakenly concluding that he was head over heels for her.

“It’s not pity. I love you, Anne. Say, you’re taking part in the Royal Candy Fair in Lewiston, right? You told me you were. In that case, I’m going, too. I’ll protect and support you so you can become a Silver Sugar Master.”

“Wait. You were attacked by bandits just a moment ago; you can’t possibly protect me, can you?! Besides, aren’t you heir to your family’s candy store? And isn’t there a possibility of you becoming the maestro of the Radcliffe Workshop?! I can’t let someone important like you accompany me on such a dangerous journey. What if you get hurt? I’d never be able to face the Anders family, and after they took care of me, too.”

“The bandits were, well… I let my guard down a little. I’m a man; I’ll be fine.”

“What are you basing that on?!”

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I have a sword, too.”

“Hey, are you listening to me?”

“Besides, Mother and Father agreed I should accompany you to Lewiston.”

“The Anders agreed to that? I doubt it. Anyway, go home.”

“I can’t turn back now. The danger is the same, whether I turn around or continue.”

In his ardor, Jonas sounded frantic, like someone delirious with fever.

Anne was certain he had completely misinterpreted his feelings.

She knew her conscience would never rest easy if she ended up leading poor, lovestruck Jonas to his death.

“No way. You have to go back.”

“Anne, don’t be so cold. Come on.”

Jonas smiled and gripped Anne’s hand again.

It startled her, and though she tried to pull away, he kept a firm grip on her.

“I came for you. Do you hate me? Are you not happy?”

Anne was flummoxed by his gaze. All the girls back in the village were crazy about his kind, smiling face.

“I don’t hate you. But—but listen. How do I put this? That’s not the issue…”

Challe didn’t seem inclined to interrupt Anne and Jonas’s exchange. He had been leaning against the back of the wagon the whole time, looking up at the sky. However, he suddenly scowled and stood up straight.

“Scarecrow. Let’s get moving quickly. The wolves will be here once they catch the scent of blood. Look up.”

Challe sat beside Anne on the driver’s seat, looking exhausted. Wedged into the gap between Anne and Challe, curled up into a ball as he slept, was Mithril Lid Pod.

With the rising of the sun, Anne steered the boxy wagon out of the way station.

Mithril had made a fuss throughout the night. Naturally, neither Anne nor Challe had gotten much sleep. She had still been trying to calm Mithril down as they’d departed that morning.

Mithril then had the nerve to sit up on the driver’s seat. The sleep-deprived Anne and Challe weren’t speaking, and Mithril must have been worn out from staying up all night, because the pleasant swaying of the wagon lulled him into a deep slumber.

Challe looked down at where Mithril was dozing and asked hatefully, “Shall we throw him over the side while he’s asleep?”

“That’s taking it too far; forget about it. Besides, even if you tossed him out, he’d probably come back. He said he was following me to the depths of hell, after all. He’s most likely not going to let us sleep until he does something he considers proper repayment. I don’t know what to do… Come to think of it, I don’t know what to do about Jonas, either…”

Jonas’s wagon was following behind them, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

After being tossed about on the wagon for a while, Anne looked up and checked the position of the sun.

It was almost time to take a break and have lunch. Anne had noticed a small, clear stream running through the woods that flanked the road. Once they found a clearing, she drove the wagon into it and parked.

Jonas also brought his carriage to gentle stop.

Anne grabbed a bucket and industriously began drawing water from the stream, refilling the cask attached to the side of her wagon.

Jonas watched her for a moment, then seemed to realize that he also needed to replenish his water. He picked up a bucket and walked over to the stream.

Anne had leaned over the side of the stream to scoop up water, and Jonas leaned over in the same manner beside her.

She noticed his presence and turned to face him.

Jonas wore an uncharacteristically serious expression as he stared back at Anne. He then said suddenly, “Anne. Do you understand now? I was worried about you, that’s all.”

Jonas put his hand into the stream and touched Anne’s hand.

This startled her, and she pulled her bucket out of the water. She didn’t know how to deal with Jonas when he did things like that. But as always, he was as kind as could be.

“Anne.”

When he said her name, a small sigh escaped Anne’s lips.

Jonas was a good person. Even his reckless actions were for her sake.

“Very soon, we will have traveled three hundred karons along the Bloody Highway. We’ve already come one-fourth of the way. At this point, it would be more dangerous for you to turn back and go home alone. It’ll be safer if we travel as far as Lewiston together. Let’s go together,” Anne said.

Hearing that, Jonas burst into a smile.

“So you get it?!”

“In exchange, I need you to understand that we really are in danger out here.”

“But you’ve got a warrior fairy working for you, don’t you, Anne? I don’t think there’s any need to worry.”

“Warrior fairies aren’t all-powerful. Don’t let your faith in Challe make you careless.”

“I know that.”

Anne didn’t sense a shred of nervousness in Jonas’s voice as he answered.

She didn’t think the young man had spent much time outside Knoxberry Village. At most, he had probably gone to Redington on occasion to shop or attend festivals. Evidently, a boy like that would be ignorant of the perils the road could hold.

On the other hand, Jonas had been attacked by bandits just the day before. Anne thought he should have shown more concern.

Challe had driven the bandits off much too easily. That had likely given Jonas the incorrect impression that, as long as they were accompanied by a warrior fairy, they had no reason to fret over anything bad happening.

When they finished drawing water, Anne’s party ate lunch and then set off again.

On schedule, they arrived at the way station where Anne had decided to spend the third night.

That evening, Anne invited Jonas to eat with her.

As always, she built a small fire.

She spread leather mats out beside the fire and called for Challe, Jonas, and Cathy.

Mithril had already shown up, no summons necessary. He was pacing restlessly around the group, as if observing them.

“Let me introduce you to Jonas and Cathy. This is Challe Fenn Challe. He’s a warrior fairy. I purchased him in Redington to serve as my bodyguard. I call him Challe.”

“What about a name? You haven’t given him one?”

“I just told you his name.”

Jonas looked bewildered to be introduced to a fairy. Fairies were like tools, he thought, not the kind of thing that would normally warrant an introduction. The principle of a fairy’s owner not giving them a new name was something else he didn’t quite understand.

Cathy was giving Challe a curious look, but he turned away, as if he didn’t even see her or her master.

Jonas looked Challe over again closely.

“You’re really too pretty to be a warrior fairy. What a waste. I bet you could be sold as a pet fairy.”

Challe answered coolly, “If you like me, maybe you could buy me from the scarecrow? You’re about equally stupid, so I don’t care which one of you is in charge of me.”

“Challe!”

In a panic, Anne tried to stifle him, but once the words were out of his mouth, there was no way to pretend he hadn’t said them.

“S-stupid…”

Clearly, Jonas had never been called stupid by a fairy. Rather than angry, he was dumbfounded.

Anne felt responsible for the insult and began making excuses. “S-sorry, Jonas! Challe’s got a sharp tongue; apparently, he didn’t sell as a pet fairy. Even as a warrior fairy, I got him at a discount because of it. He’s always calling me stupid or moronic or something, so don’t take it personally! Challe, don’t say things like that to other people besides me. They’re not used to it!”

“Hmm. Well…it’s not your fault, Anne, so it’s fine. More importantly, who is that fairy?”

As if to collect himself, Jonas turned his gaze toward Mithril.

Thinking it was his turn on stage, the little stowaway hopped into the center of the circle.

“Oh, me? My name is Mr. Mithril Lid Pod!! Don’t forget the Mister when you speak to me!”

“Huh? M-Mister??”

Jonas blinked dramatically. He looked like he didn’t grasp Mithril’s meaning.

“Why do you both have such attitudes?!” Anne snapped. “Listen, Mithril Lid Pod, I’ve got a problem with calling you ‘Mister.’ It clearly doesn’t feel right.”

In response to Anne’s scolding, Mithril hung his head dejectedly. Then, he walked off unsteadily in the direction of Anne’s wagon.

As a matter of course, Jonas did not introduce Cathy.

Anne’s evening meal consisted of water and a sandwich made of thinly cut slices of dried meat on brown bread. She gave the same to Challe, too.

When she glanced over at Mithril, he was sitting on the roof of the cargo hold of the wagon, melodramatically holding his knees to his chest and drawing circles with his fingertip.

Mithril could be terribly disruptive. He’d made a great nuisance of himself the night before.

But thinking on it more, Anne thought it very admirable of him to be so determined to return a favor. Still, the person he had to repay was a member of the human race he so despised. Maybe that was why he was so prone to making such bizarre pronouncements.

He’s really cute when he isn’t talking. He’s got those big round eyes and everything.

Anne split her own sandwich in two and beckoned Mithril over.

“Come here, Mithril. You can have this.”

Mithril’s face burst into a bright smile, and he went bounding over and snatched the sandwich from Anne’s hand.

Then with a serious face, he commented, “I am Mithril Lid Pod. Don’t abbreviate it!”

“Of course. I’m sorry. Mithril Lid Pod.”

Anne had considered splitting her dinner with Jonas, too, but he’d insisted he had his own food and retrieved it from his wagon.

Jonas’s meal struck Anne as unbelievably luxurious.

He had grape wine. Apple juice. White-bread sandwiches filled with pear jam. A slice of meat pie. His mother had obviously spared no expense in provisioning his journey. It was a picnic fit for the young master.

Once Anne saw his spread, she was convinced Jonas had set off with his parents’ consent.

Assembling such a variety of foods was a feat only the mistress of the house could perform. Jonas’s parents had supplied the wagon and the food and had hired some bodyguards while they were at it. They had arranged everything for him. Of that, Anne had no doubt.

But why had the Anders supported their son’s reckless behavior? That part didn’t make sense.

“If you’ve got feasts like this with you, I guess you don’t need my soup or anything, huh?” Anne grumbled mindlessly.

In response, Cathy, who was pouring wine into Jonas’s cup, chuckled.

“Of course not.”

Jonas glared at Cathy.

“Be quiet, Cathy. I forbid you to speak to Anne in such a rude tone.”

Startled, the servant fairy’s demeanor shifted. She was flustered and tried to mend her error.

“Ah, forgive me, Master Jonas. I was just—”

“Disappear.”

Cathy hung her head. Colors began fading from her body, starting from the tips of her toes, and she quickly became transparent. In the end, her whole body disappeared. Only the wine bottle she was holding remained visible, floating lightly in the air.

Fairies have unique abilities. Cathy’s ability seemed to be invisibility.

“Sorry about that, Anne,” Jonas said apologetically. “My servant fairy sometimes shows poor manners. Your soup was delicious, truly. I was happy to receive it.”

Jonas’s behavior was probably what was expected of a young gentleman, but Anne still felt bad for Cathy. Just before disappearing, she’d looked absolutely miserable.

The following morning, the two wagons set out again.

Mithril sat happily between Challe and Anne. He was in a good mood, chattering on and on.

“Anne. If there’s something I can do to repay my debt to you, don’t hold back—tell me. But don’t ask me to do odd jobs. Let me do something more impressive as repayment.”

“An impressive repayment, huh? I’ve been thinking it might be best to come up with something that uses your special ability, if possible. What kind of powers do you have, Mithril Lid Pod?”

Hearing this inquiry, Mithril threw out his chest as if he’d been waiting for his cue.

“Oh, my powers? You’ll be surprised to hear! Listen carefully. I come from the waters of Loess Lake, a huge lake in the northernmost part of the Kingdom of Highland! …A drop of lake water stuck to a leaf, and I was born from that droplet.”

“You were born from a drop of water? Are all fairies born that way?”

Anne cocked her head, and Mithril wagged his index finger chidingly.

“You don’t know a thing, do you, Anne? Fairies are born from all sorts of things. Berries and nuts, water droplets and morning dew, stones and gems. When the energy of an object condenses enough, a fairy is born. But in order for that to happen, the gaze of a living creature is required. It can be another fairy, a human, a beast, or a bird. Even a fish or a bug will do. The energy takes on a form as the object is being observed, and that form becomes a fairy. A fairy’s life span is approximately the same as the object from which it originated.”

“So Mithril Lid Pod was born from a water droplet. What were you born from, Challe?”

Challe just glanced over at Anne and didn’t answer.

Mithril replied instead.

“Judging from his appearance, I’d say that guy came from a piece of obsidian. Stone fairies have the power to make sharp objects. Since I was born from a water droplet, I can control water. That’s my power.”

“Control water?! That’s incredible! Show me!”

“Sure!”

Mithril cupped both hands in front of his chest.

He stared hard into his little palms, and water bubbled up to fill the hollow.

Mithril formed the water into a ball just like he was working a piece of clay, and he tossed it gently up into the air. It burst when it hit the back of Anne’s hand. It was only a small splash, but she could feel the coolness of the lake water.

“Amazing! If you can control water, then if we’re ever caught in a flash flood, you can change the course of the water, right?!”

“Don’t talk about such dreadful things. Who could possibly do that?”

“So what can you do?”

“I just showed you!”

“Huh…… That’s all?”

“Yes, but…what? Got something to say?”

Anne’s shoulders drooped in disappointment. It seemed like Mithril’s powers didn’t amount to much.

“You’ll be useful if we ever need to give water to a baby bird,” Challe remarked, his voice thick with sarcasm.

“Grr, shut up, you!! What does that even mean? Are you making fun of me? I won’t let you talk to me like that! And while I’m at it, Challe Fenn Challe, you ought to treat Anne better, too! You’re so rude!”

“You’re ruder than I am,” Challe retorted coolly.

“What’s rude about me?”

“Everything.”

“What did you say?!”

Giving the two quarreling fairies a sidelong look, Anne declared, “It’s all right, there’s no need to fight about it. You’re both equally rude.”

Anne steadily scooched away from them.

If they managed to make it to the way station where Anne had decided they would spend the fourth night of their journey that evening, they would have traveled four hundred karons down the Bloody Highway. They would be one-third of the way to their destination.

The sun gradually sank in the sky, painting the edges of the distant mountains a bright orange.

Anne was wondering whether they might reach the next way station without issue when the rays of sunlight, which had been shining on the back of the wagon as if pushing it onward, suddenly grew dim.

Challe looked up at the sky and frowned. Mithril looked up as well, following Challe’s lead, and his whole expression changed.

“Hey, Challe Fenn Challe. That’s…”

Anne tilted her head quizzically when she heard Mithril’s serious tone.

“What? What’s wrong?”

That same moment, Jonas pulled his wagon up alongside Anne’s so that his driver’s seat was even with hers.

“Hey, Anne. Anne! Look up.”

When she saw Jonas’s frightened expression, Anne finally realized that something strange was going on.

Following Jonas’s finger, she looked high up into the sky.

Anne was startled. The heavens were black.

She had assumed it had gotten cloudy, that the light from the sun had just been obstructed.

But it wasn’t clouds that had blocked the light.

It was a flock of wasteland crows, several hundred strong. The huge, black birds had gathered and been flying behind them, following them without uttering a single cry.

“This is…an attack…”

Anne had heard rumors about the wasteland crows.

The crows are scavengers that usually feed on carrion. But whenever there isn’t enough to feed them, they swarm and descend on living things, killing them for food.

It is said that when they strike, their target is beyond hope.

Using their sharp beaks, they first aim for the eyes of their prey. The crows pin their victims down, then tear off pieces of flesh. Hiding inside a wagon is pointless. The crows are intelligent. They patiently cling to the boards of the roof of the cargo hold and peck holes in them until they break through.

Anne trembled in fear at the sight of the flock of pitch-black birds filling the sky.

She knew that if they were attacked, they were as good as dead. Anne and her group couldn’t repel them.

Anne looked over at Challe. This time, it was absolutely necessary to order him to act. Her life and everyone else’s were in danger. She had to do it. If you don’t want your wing destroyed, protect us from the wasteland crows. But—

“Challe, please.”

Anne said it without thinking. Challe’s eyes flashed when he heard the word please. Without him saying a thing, Anne felt as if he had scolded her: Are you still trying to pretend we’re friends?

She weathered the rebuke and steadied herself.

“Challe. I command you. Protect us from the wasteland crows. I’ve got your wing in my hand. You know what that means, right?”

She issued the order, but it didn’t feel right.

Truthfully, Anne did not want to do anything cruel like crush Challe’s wing. But if the warrior fairy saw through her act, he might not follow her orders.

Sure enough, Challe narrowed his eyes in a look of amusement.

Anne didn’t know what she would do if he refused. There would likely be nothing for it except to remove the wing from where she kept it concealed near her chest and act like she was going to tear it up.

But Challe nodded. He then ordered, “Park the wagons.”

With those few words, he jumped down from the driver’s seat. In a panic, Anne pulled her wagon to a stop and looked back at him. As the sword made from condensed light appeared in his hand, he said bluntly over his shoulder, “Hide yourselves in the cargo hold.”

He obeyed me? Why?

The crows began their descent toward the now-stationary group.

“Anne!”

Jonas stopped his carriage as well and looked up at the sky with a pale face.

“Jonas, get in your cargo hold! Hurry!”

Hearing that, Jonas quickly took refuge.

“This is it! My chance to repay you! I will also help drive away the birds!”

Mithril rubbed his hands together and stood, rolling up his sleeves with surprising determination.

Anne went pale, too.

“No way, nuh-uh! Not on your life! Come here!”

“Whaddaya mean, ‘no way’?! Don’t complain about me paying back a favor… Ahhh!”

Anne grabbed the grumbling Mithril by the collar, jumped down from the driver’s seat, and leaped into the back of her wagon.

“Don’t go out there. If you die trying to repay me, then there was no point in saving you.”

Anne sat on the floor of the cargo hold, embracing Mithril tightly.

“But I… My debt… Repay…”

Mithril’s voice trailed off as Anne hugged him, and his cheeks gradually reddened. At last, he was quiet.

Anne listened to the noises happening outside.

The crows were silent before, but now they were cawing in unison, like a battle cry.

Anne instinctively covered her ears with both hands as she was assailed by a storm of sound crashing down on her from above.

With great terrible thumps, the crows hurled themselves at the wagon, which rattled and shook.

It was all Anne could do to stifle her screams.

Protect us…Challe!

The wagon swayed violently. The horse was panicking and struggling.

The cries of the wasteland crows seemed to envelop the whole vehicle.

Anne couldn’t keep her body from quaking. She curled up into a ball, paralyzed.

As she huddled there, Mithril’s tiny hand gently touched her face.

“Don’t be scared, Anne. We’ll be all right. Challe Fenn Challe comes from obsidian. He’s not like me. He can’t get hurt, and he can’t be broken. He’s exceptionally strong, even compared with other fairies.”

After quite a long time, the crow’s attacks on the wagon finally abated. The rasping caws diminished. Bit by bit, it grew quiet outside.

Perfect stillness returned. Anne and Mithril looked at each other.

“Is it over?”

“Um…I don’t know.”

Anne lifted her head, placed Mithril on the floor, and rose. She cautiously opened the door.

As soon as she did, something black dropped down right in front of her with a thud.

“Ah!!”

She fell on her backside and scooted away.

The carcass of a wasteland crow had slipped off the roof and landed on the wagon steps. Once she realized what it was, Anne looked up.

Through the open door, she could see a pitch-black highway.

The road was buried in crow corpses, blanketed in black feathers.

Standing atop the carpet of black feathers was Challe, his white cheeks covered in splashes of blood.

“…Challe.”

When she called his name, the warrior fairy turned to look at Anne.

His eyes were sharp, as they always were, yet somehow vacant. He truly looked like a blade honed from obsidian.

Challe swung the sword in his hand and made it vanish, then casually wiped the blood off his cheeks. He slowly walked over the black carpet of feathers toward Anne.

When he saw her sitting on the floor, he chuckled dismissively.

“Weak in the knees?”

“N-no, I’m not!”

Anne stubbornly denied it, trying to rise, but there was no strength in her legs, and she stumbled.

She nearly tumbled off the wagon, and Challe caught her in his arms.

The moment he did, a breeze fluttered Challe’s wing, which gently brushed against Anne’s cheek. The sensation of the wing, softer than silk, sent a sweet shiver up her spine.

The person who was about to close the gate was a middle-aged man. He was unsteady on his feet, with a shaggy beard and unkempt, graying hair. But Anne could sense intelligence in his face.

“Wait, wait, please! I beg you!”

When he noticed Anne’s and Jonas’s wagons rushing toward him, the man left the doors half-open and waited for them.

Anne brought her wagon to a stop when they reached the gate, and she got down from the driver’s seat.

She was impatient but didn’t forget to show proper respect.

“I’m sorry to bother you after dark like this. Are you the doctor who lives here?”

When he heard her question, the man nodded.

“That’s right,” he said.

“We’re travelers. We were planning to stay at the way station down the road tonight, but we were attacked by wasteland crows and got delayed. There’s no way we’ll make it there. Please, would you let us stay here just for tonight?”

Even though Doctor’s Inns were well-known, they were still private residences. The doctor could choose to turn away travelers.

Anne wanted to win the man’s sympathy.

The doctor peered through the dim light to study Anne’s carriage.

“It sure looks like you got attacked by crows, doesn’t it? There are plenty of marks on the sides of your wagon where they struck it. Good thing you managed to get away safely.”

Anne looked back at Challe, who was still sitting.

“It’s because he was with us. He’s a warrior fairy.”

The doctor followed her gaze and looked at Challe. “What a beautiful fairy,” he remarked. “You don’t see many like this very often. He’s a warrior fairy, you say? Not a pet?”

The doctor shuffled up to the driver’s seat of the wagon and stared at Challe. He stood still, gazing in fascination at the fairy.

Night had settled over the land, and they could hear the howls of wolves.

Anne was growing tired of waiting but did her best to endure it.

However—

“Are you going to stare at me all night, shaggy?”

Challe sounded fed up.

Anne went pale and nearly screamed at him.

Hyaaah—!! Challe—! How could you—?!!

She felt a rush of cold sweat.

Sure enough, the doctor’s hair and beard were the shaggiest she had ever seen. Challe was right; the man was shaggy.

But it would be a disaster if he made the doctor angry.

As if he had awoken from a dream, the doctor blinked several times. Then, he smiled bashfully and turned back toward Anne.

“Ah, sorry, sorry. When you live in a place like this, you don’t often get to appreciate genuine beauty. Anyway, you seem to have had quite a difficult time. Please feel free to stay. The charge is sixty bayn per person. If that’s all right, you can pull both wagons inside the walls.”

“Th-thank you!”

Anne wiped away her cold sweat and hung her head low with relief.

When they got the wagons through the gate, they saw that there was already another guest’s conveyance stowed inside.

Anne could see immediately that the lacquer on their carriage was high-quality work. It was old, but solidly constructed.

Jonas, who had parked nearby, came up beside Anne and said quietly, “Look, Anne. This carriage must belong to someone of high social standing. Someone of real importance, you know? That makes me nervous.”

“We’ve got to be on our best behavior, then. Especially Challe—I need him to be more careful about what he says…”

As they were heading toward the door to the house, Anne glared at Challe, who was walking beside her.

“Challe. I thought my heart was going to stop earlier when you called that man ‘shaggy.’”

Mithril, who was bouncing along behind Anne, chimed in to criticize the larger fairy.

“That’s right, that’s right! That guy wasn’t shaggy; we oughta call him rickety instead!”

“Exactly, he was rickety, not shaggy… Wait, wrooong!!”

Anne shouted at the pair.

“You can’t call him ‘shaggy’ or ‘rickety’! What will we do if you make him angry? We’ll get kicked out of here!”

Challe answered calmly, “I doubt this particular human would get angry over something so insignificant. I can tell just by looking at him. I’m quite confident about this, since I called all sorts of humans many horrible names back in the fairy marketplace.”

“We don’t need your strange sense of confidence! In any case, please stop calling him names!”

“It’s been my habit for many years, so I’m not sure I can make any promises,” Challe said flatly.

Anne slumped her shoulders in defeat.

There was nothing she could do but humble herself and apologize the best she could if her companion angered someone.

Anne opened the door and stepped inside the house.

Just inside was a spacious room with no partitions.

Along one wall was a medicine cabinet and a wooden bed that looked like it was used for treatment. On the opposite wall were three sets of tables and chairs of various materials and designs. It looked like the doctor’s infirmary was also the dining room.

The other guests were nowhere to be seen. Anne figured they were probably relaxing in their assigned rooms.

The doctor led Anne and the others to a door in the back of the hall.

Behind it was a corridor running perpendicular to the doorway. At one end of the hallway was a room that looked like a kitchen, while the one on the other end looked like a bathroom.

There were three additional doors on both sides of the hallway, which appeared to be rooms meant for guests.

Anne and Jonas were each given their own room.

There were two beds, and a tidy little curtain hanging over a small window. The space was modest but comfortable.

“Once you put your bags down and rest a bit, come to the dining room. I can serve you a simple soup,” the doctor said as he left.

Of course, they didn’t have any luggage. Anne was more concerned with her grumbling stomach. Jonas seemed similarly afflicted, as he came into Anne’s room complaining of hunger.

Before long, Anne and the others nonchalantly poked their heads into the dining room.

The doctor had set a large pot on one of the tables and was ladling soup into earthenware bowls.

At a different table, two young men were seated. They were facing each other, playing cards.

Jonas whispered to Anne, “Those must be the other guests. Though, they don’t look all that important.”

One of the men was tall and solidly built. His unkempt brown hair was carelessly arranged, and the shirt, pants, and jacket he was wearing weren’t extravagant, though they looked well fitted. However, there were flickers of something wild in his brown eyes that couldn’t be concealed, even by smartly tailored clothes.

The other man had a strange appearance. He had a lean, muscular body and tanned skin. His hair was pure white and his eyes gray. He gave the impression of a graceful, feline predator. He was probably from another country. He was dressed in a leather vest and pants, and sitting beside him was a gently curved sword.

Someone important traveling incognito and his bodyguard. That was Anne’s guess.

“Oh, here you are. Come this way, the soup’s ready,” the doctor called out when he noticed Anne’s party.

At the sound of the their host’s voice, the two young men turned toward the door through which Anne and the others were poking their heads.

“Come and sit here. I don’t know how good it is, but we’ve got plenty to go around. You can eat lots.”

“Thank you so much,” Anne answered amiably, and they all entered the dining room.

Anne and Jonas took a seat at the table where the doctor had placed the large pot. Once they were seated, Anne noticed that Challe, Mithril, and Cathy were standing far from the table.

“What’s wrong, you three? Hurry up and sit down.”

Anne called them over. When she did, the doctor and the other guests looked at her with surprise.

“Huh? What?”

Anne recoiled under their gazes, and Jonas whispered, “Anne, you know it’s not normal to eat meals with your fairies, right?!”

“But I do it…”

“It’s not how things are normally done! This may be an inn, but we’re still guests here, right? If you say that kind of thing in a public place, people will think you don’t know social etiquette.”

Jonas made it clear that Anne had done something that missed the mark as far as so-called social etiquette was concerned. But at the same time, she was angry. She didn’t see any reason to demean fairies like that.

“I don’t need to know that kind of etiquette. I don’t care. Listen, I want to eat with Challe and the others.”

Anne looked the doctor in the face.

“We’ve been eating together this whole journey. I want to continue doing that. If we can’t, then I just won’t eat at all.”

“I see. I don’t mind personally, but look, I’ve got other guests right now, too…”

Suddenly, a loud laugh rang out, drowning out the doctor’s mumbling.

“It’s no problem!! I don’t care, either!”

The laugh came from the man with brown hair. As he chortled, he waved one big hand in Anne’s direction.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s your name?”

“Anne. Anne Halford.”

“I’m Hugh. Don’t worry about it, Anne. Tell your fairies to have a seat.”

“Thank you.”

Hugh’s informal manner and cheerful smile softened the atmosphere.

The fairies looked baffled, unsure of what they should do. Anne invited them to her table.

As she and the others began eating their soup, the young man who had called himself Hugh gathered up the playing cards. He then leaned over from the adjacent table and spoke to Anne.

“Where are you kids from? And where are you headed, traveling down a highway like this?”

“He’s—Jonas is from Knoxberry Village. I’ve never had a permanent place to live ever since I was born, so I can’t tell you where I’m from. We’re going to Lewiston.”

At that point, Jonas puffed up with pride and said somewhat boastfully, “We’re going to enter the Royal Candy Fair in Lewiston! We’re both candy crafters.”

“Ha! You’re candy crafters? But you’re really traveling in luxury for a couple of ordinary candy crafters. You’ve got two servant fairies, plus one pet fairy, huh?”

Hugh rose with a grin. He stood beside Challe and peered deliberately at his face.

“Hmm? This one looks expensive. Who owns this pretty pet?”

Challe had his hand on his soup bowl, quietly eating. Just for a second, his sharp eyes glanced over at Hugh, but thankfully, he didn’t say anything.

“I bought Challe. But he’s not a pet fairy; he’s a warrior fairy. He’s my bodyguard.”

“A warrior fairy? You’re pulling my leg. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. It’s only natural for a girl your age to want to take a walk with a pretty fairy like him. Did you fall in love with him, Anne? Is that why you bought him?”

Anne could tell he was making fun of her. She flared up with embarrassment.

“It’s not like that!”

“Don’t get all bashful now. I can tell; you don’t have to lie like that.”

“I’m not lying!” Anne shouted in spite of herself.

Hugh looked amused, and his eyes flashed.

“All right then, how about you prove it?”

Hugh glanced over at the young man accompanying him and took one step back.

The other traveler, who so far had been quiet enough that he’d faded into the background, reacted to Hugh’s signal.

Suddenly, he grabbed the sword sitting beside him and unsheathed it in a single motion, kicking his chair away. He looked like a beast on the prowl readying itself to pounce. The blade streaked through the air toward Challe.

“Challe!”

Faster than Anne could shout his name, the warrior fairy leaped to his feet and jumped out of the way.

Before the second attack reached him, his silver sword appeared in his hand.

The man’s weapon swung down at full strength, and Challe’s caught the blow.

The blades collided, and the force of the impact sent a ripple through the air.

“Not bad,” the young man with the tan skin muttered, expressionless.

Challe smiled and whispered to his opponent, “You want to die?”

“Afraid I’m not that messed up.”

The sound of their swords grinding against each other echoed through the room. Their power was well matched, and neither could advance.

“I see. He really is a warrior fairy,” Hugh said with a smile, sounding amazed. “That’s enough, Salim. Put away your sword.”

The man whom Hugh had called Salim readily withdrew his blade.

Challe shrugged, dropped his fighting stance, and let his sword disappear.

Once Anne came to her senses, she rose without thinking and grabbed Hugh by the collar.

“What do you think you’re doing, you idiot?!” she demanded. “If you hurt my companion, I’ll make you pay!”

“Sorry, sorry, don’t get so upset. I just couldn’t believe that such a pretty fairy could really be a warrior. I wanted to test him, that’s all,” Hugh said without a hint of remorse.

“You think that excuses what you did?!”

“Come on, I’m apologizing here. To make it up to you, I’ll pay the lodging fee for the lot of you.”

“You can’t weasel your way out of… Wait… Huh? The lodging fee? …Really?”

The hand holding Hugh’s collar slackened.

The cost of Emma’s medical treatments over the past half a year had been considerable. Anne had also been unable to earn much money during that time. She had burned through all their savings and used what little she had left to purchase Challe.

The lodging fees would bankrupt her.

Consequently, Anne was incredibly grateful to hear Hugh’s offer.

“One, two, three…five people, at sixty bayn a head—that comes to three cress, yeah?” Hugh said. “That’s quite a sum. A bit too expensive for a simple apology.”

“What do you mean? It was your suggestion, wasn’t it?!”

“You got me there. But I feel like I’m losing out a little. I know, you said you two are candy crafters, right? Make me one piece of candy each. If you do that, I’ll pay the lodging fees for all five of you.”

“Huh?!”

“Something roughly palm-sized will do. At most, two candies of that size would cost about ten bayn, right? You’ll be spending ten bayn to earn three cress—not a bad return, is it?”

Anne had a feeling that Hugh was toying with them.

But the idea of not having to pay the lodging fee was an attractive one.

She turned and looked at Jonas. Jonas shrugged.

“I’ve got no objections, Anne.”

For some reason, Jonas looked delighted.

Anne turned back toward Hugh and said with a huff, “All right, fine. We’ll make you candy. And in exchange, you’d better pay up!”

“If you like, I could take a knee and swear an oath.”

“I don’t need it. Just be patient. Once we’re finished eating, we’ll make your candy.”

When they had finished their meal, Anne and Jonas went together to retrieve the silver sugar from Anne’s wagon.

Inside the cargo hold of the wagon, lined up along one of the walls, were five silver sugar barrels.

One was empty. Another was about two-thirds full of silver sugar. The remaining three were tightly packed, all the way up to the rims.

Entrants in the Royal Candy Fair in Lewiston present a single work of candy art for the festival.

Along with these, they must also submit three barrels of silver sugar.

This is because they are judged not only by the quality of their crafting but also by their skill at stabilizing and refining fine-quality silver sugar.

Refining silver sugar from sugar apples had been Anne’s job since she was ten years old.

“We can’t use these three barrels, but even after I make my entry for the candy fair out of the two-thirds-full barrel, I’ll have plenty left over. We could make ten palm-sized candies, and I’d still have more than enough,” Anne mumbled as she opened the lid on the barrel.

She scooped some silver sugar into a stone vessel and handed it to Jonas. She filled one more for herself, then exited the wagon.

“This is kind of exciting, huh?” Jonas chirped happily as they headed back to the house.

Anne was doubtful. “Why? I’ve got a feeling that this guy is making fun of us.”

“Even so, don’t you feel proud to show off your skills in front of other people?”

“I guess so.”

“I sure do. I’ve got confidence in my skills. Actually, keep this between us, but there’s a very good chance I’m going to get an endorsement to become the future maestro of the Radcliffe Workshop! The current maestro there saw some of my work… He’s a distant relative of mine, but apparently, he took a liking to me. Of course, in order to become maestro, I first have to become a Silver Sugar Master.”

There are three large factions of candy crafters.

The Mercury Workshop.

The Paige Workshop.

And the Radcliffe Workshop.

If a crafter isn’t affiliated with one of these factions, they may face difficulty obtaining sugar apples, the raw material that goes into making silver sugar. They might also have a hard time selling the candy they create.

That is why the majority of candy crafters are affiliated with one of the three factions.

Of course, the rival factions are in constant competition.

Anne’s mother, Emma, did not join any of them. She’d claimed she didn’t care for the factions’ way of doing things. She had struggled to obtain sugar apples and to sell her sugar candies.

Whenever Anne heard Jonas boasting, it made her realize that he lived in a different world, with a totally different set of values than her.

However, their aspiration to become Silver Sugar Masters seemed the same, though it might have been the only thing they shared in common.

“So you want to become a Silver Sugar Master too, huh, Jonas? Why don’t you enter this year’s Royal Candy Fair?”

“Well, I…I’ve entered twice, last year and the year before that, but I haven’t been able to become a Silver Sugar Master yet. I’m sitting out this year. I’m going to polish my skills a little more and go for it next year! For the sake of my future, I need to become a Silver Sugar Master. If I don’t, I can never lead the Radcliffe Workshop. And I can never work up to be a Silver Sugar Viscount.”

Anne’s eyebrows rose in surprise when she heard those words.

“Jonas, you want to become Viscount?”

The Silver Sugar Viscount is an individual chosen from among all the Silver Sugar Masters to work exclusively for the royal household.

The title is granted to that Silver Sugar Master and only them. It cannot be passed down through their bloodline.

All the candy-crafter factions must follow the orders of the Silver Sugar Viscount. Failing to do so is considered the same as disobeying a royal edict.

Becoming Viscount is a peak achievement for any candy crafter.

“I sure do! Actually, I know I’m going to make Viscount. I mean, the son of commoners becoming a noble? There’s no greater dream, is there? So, Anne—”

Suddenly, Jonas stopped walking. Anne stopped, too.

“So won’t you please marry me? I’m going to become a Silver Sugar Master and then Silver Sugar Viscount. I can promise you a happy life.”

The moon poked its face out from between two clouds. Anne could see Jonas’s expression clearly.

She should have been happy to hear those words, but she tried to imagine leading a happy life with the boy in front of her. The vision evaded her.

Even looking at Jonas’s handsome face and hearing his proposal didn’t stir her heart.

Rather than Jonas…

Suddenly, an image of Challe floated up in Anne’s mind. She felt even more flustered than usual when picturing his face.

“Sorry, Jonas. Let’s not talk about that right now.”

Anne hurried into the house and saw Hugh sitting at a table waiting for them. Across from him were two chairs set up side by side.

The fairies and Salim, along with the doctor, were gathered around like an audience.

“All right, you two, take a seat. I want you to make your candy right in front of me.”

There were bowls of water sitting on the table, one deep and one shallow for each of them. There were also two cutting boards that had been procured from the kitchen.

Looking at the items arranged before her, Anne frowned and sat down in one chair.

“You don’t need to add any color. And I’ll leave the decision of what to make up to you.”

“Before we start, can I ask you something?”

Anne stared into Hugh’s face from directly across the table.

“What is it?”

“Who are you? The way you arranged these tools…You couldn’t have done it unless you’re familiar with the process of making sugar candy. You wouldn’t happen to be a candy crafter, too? Are you entering the Royal Candy Fair?”

Hugh’s mouth curled into a suggestive smile. “If you want me to pay your lodging fees, hush and make candy, Anne.”

“…Well, whatever. As long as you’re paying.”

Anne poured some of the water that had been set out on the table into the stone bowl that held her sugar.

Jonas started in the same way.

They added cold water to their silver sugar and kneaded the resulting mixture. As they did, the sugar became like a soft clay.

Normally, Anne would add colored powders into the dough to produce a variety of shades. It was the usual method crafters took, as combining various powders could make gorgeous, multicolored works of candy art. But this time, she wouldn’t use any.

Anne transferred the claylike sugar dough to the cutting board and continued kneading.

Hugh hadn’t laid out any of the tools for forming the candy, so there was nothing to do but make it using only her fingers.

Silver sugar melts easily from heat. Crafters must work quickly, cooling their hands with water while handling it.

Anne chilled her fingers in the cold water that had been set out on the table.

It is said that the hand movements of candy crafters are akin to those of magicians. They move gently and smoothly.

What should I make?

Anne thought it over as she kneaded her sugar.

I wonder what Mama would make if she was here?

Anne figured that Emma would probably have made good use of the white color and created something white.

Emma had loved plants, so Anne settled on a white flower.

Once she made her choice, she recalled a flower shape that Emma often crafted.

Anne molded the flower petals with her fingertips, producing a great number. Then, she layered them to make the flower.

Jonas was molding a cat that could sit in the palm of his hand. It had a long, elegant tail and a lovely curving body. It was obvious he was trying to show off.

Hugh stared at their hands as they worked, a serious expression on his face.

Cathy looked at Jonas’s creation and marveled, “The things Master Jonas makes are truly incredible…”

It didn’t take all that long for them to complete their tasks.

Anne and Jonas stopped working and lifted their heads at the same time.

“You two finished?” Hugh asked.

Jonas nodded confidently and pointed to his cutting board.

“All done.”

“Me too.”

Anne also placed the results of her efforts on her cutting board.

Hugh pulled the two boards toward him.

He looked back and forth between them for a while, then chuckled quietly.

“You’re both pretty skilled. You don’t seem like novice crafters at all.”

Anne and Jonas looked at each other and smiled.

However, the very next moment, Hugh brought both his palms down and smashed their creations to bits.

“Ah!”

“What are you doing?!”

Anne and Jonas shouted.

Hugh stared at them with an unsparing expression.

“They were ugly, so I smashed them. Jonas, you’ve got nimble hands, but that’s all you have. It was well-made, but since you just wanted to show off your skills, that’s as far as you got. There was no creativity there. Anne, you did better than Jonas. But what was that? It was like you made an exact copy of something someone else already made. It was hollow; it had no spirit. I doubt eating something like that would draw in any good fortune or extend any fairy’s life span. If this is all you can do, becoming a Silver Sugar Master is an impossible dream for either of you.”

The lecture left both Anne and Jonas speechless.

Anne had a feeling that Hugh had hit the bull’s-eye in some respects. He had accurately vocalized the feelings of inferiority that gnawed at her when she thought about her own work, feelings that had always been there but she’d never been able to articulate.

Jonas must have been in the same boat. His expression was stiff.

“Well, I guess I’ll take these candy pieces with me. I can have them for a snack tomorrow.”

Hugh swept the broken pieces of candy into a bowl and stood up.

“All right, then, off to bed, I suppose. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. Come, Salim. See you later, Anne, Jonas. That was amusing—a good way to kill some time.”

Hugh left the room with Salim.

The doctor was dumbfounded.

Anne sank to her knees, clutching the rim of one of the empty barrels.

“No way. Why isn’t it here? When we used the sugar at the Doctor’s Inn, this barrel was more than half full… I checked it. And then I locked the doors to the cargo hold.”

Even if they made it to Lewiston on time, Anne wouldn’t be able to enter the Royal Candy Fair.

If she used any of the remaining sugar, her three barrels would be underweight, and she would be disqualified. But having three full barrels of silver sugar wouldn’t mean much if she didn’t have anything to make candy with.

“…Why…why?! No one has been in here! How?!” Anne shouted.

“What are you fussing about?”

Challe’s voice came from outside the open door.

Anne stood up. Her legs were weak and unsteady. She felt like she was treading on a path piled high with fallen leaves. She staggered as soon as she stepped out of the wagon, then she crouched down in front of Challe.

“What happened?”

“My silver sugar… It’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“…I’ve got three barrels left. But in order to enter the candy fair, I need those three barrels, plus my candy. And the silver sugar I was supposed to use to make it is gone…”

Challe frowned.

“You had it at the Doctor’s Inn?”

“I had it then. I checked. And I know I locked the doors. No one should have been able to go in or out, and yet…”

Yet the silver sugar had disappeared.

Anne’s hands trembled slightly as she gripped Challe’s sleeve. Her vision was blurry.

She didn’t understand how her stores had vanished.

“Anne? Did something happen?”

Jonas must have heard her voice, and he emerged from his wagon with Cathy. When he saw Anne crouched on the ground, he tilted his head quizzically.

Anne feared that her tears would spill over if she tried to speak, so she didn’t answer. In her place, Challe said, “Apparently, the silver sugar is gone.”

“Huh? But your silver sugar was in your cargo hold, right? And the doors were locked; no one could go in or out?”

“…No. It was possible to get in and out.”

The one who broodingly said this was Cathy.

Everyone’s eyes focused on her as the implication behind her words dawned on them.

“What does that mean, Cathy?”

She hung her head at Jonas’s question.

“I don’t want to say something that will betray a member of my own kind, but…I saw it. The night that we stayed at the Doctor’s Inn, I saw it from the window of our room. There are windows up high in the cargo hold of Ms. Anne’s wagon, right? I saw Mithril Lid Pod coming out of one of them. In the moonlight, his whole body looked like it was glittering. He was covered in silver sugar.”

Mithril…?

“What’s going on down there? You’re being awfully loud. And everyone’s here. What are you talking about?”

Rubbing his sleepy eyes, Mithril peered down at them from the roof of the cargo hold.

It couldn’t be. But only someone small like a little fairy could get in and out of the locked cargo hold. Moreover, that night, Mithril was indeed the only one who slept in the dining room.

Anne stared up at Mithril’s face. She wanted to believe he was incapable of having done such a thing.

“Mithril, come down here,” Jonas ordered strictly.

“What the heck? I’m not under your control! Don’t act all important. And don’t abbreviate my name. I’m Mithril Lid Pod…”

“Get down here!!”

Mithril was immediately frightened by Jonas’s sudden intensity. Once he had descended from the roof, he looked up nervously at Anne.

“Wh-what is it?”

“Do you like silver sugar?” Jonas asked.

Mithril nodded. “I do. Are there any fairies who dislike it? What kind of question is that? What of it anyway?”

“The night that we stayed at the Doctor’s Inn, you and you alone slept in the dining room, is that right? Will you deny that you did so with an ulterior motive?”

“Huh?”

“Some of the silver sugar that Anne had prepared for the Royal Candy Fair has gone missing. The night that we stayed at the Doctor’s Inn, Cathy saw you coming out of the cargo hold of Anne’s wagon, covered in silver sugar.”

Mithril blinked in surprise. His mouth opened and closed several times. Then, he immediately lost his cool and started shouting at Cathy.

“Wh-what is this?! What did you tell them? We’re both fairies! And you told them that I did something like that?!”

Cathy hid behind Jonas and said in a feeble voice, “Because I saw you do it.”

“Liar!” Mithril shouted, turning back toward Anne.

He regarded her with fear in his eyes.

“Anne. I was not the one who stole your silver sugar. Cathy is lying.”

“What would Cathy stand to gain by lying?”

“Silence, human!!” Mithril yelled, cutting off Jonas’s reproachful words.

He pleaded with Anne again.

“Anne, don’t tell me you suspect me, too? It wasn’t me. I swear it wasn’t me!”

Mithril strung his words together nervously.

Anne wanted to believe him, but she also had no evidence that would dispel the accusation.

Maybe… No, it can’t be. He wouldn’t do that… But…

Suspicions swirled through Anne’s mind. She wanted to believe Mithril, but on the other hand, maybe…

Anne’s feelings must have shown on her face.

Tears welled up in Mithril’s eyes as he looked at her.

“You suspect me, don’t you, Anne? You don’t believe me…Anne.”

“…I want to believe you.”

“But you don’t, do you?! You doubt me just a little bit.”

Tears spilled from Mithril’s eyes.

“Fine, if you’re going to look at me with those doubting eyes, then…I’ll just disappear from your sight!” Mithril shouted, then he leaped as hard as he could into the air and disappeared to the other side of the wagon.

“Mithril, wai—…”

Anne started calling out to stop him, but her voice broke off in the middle. She didn’t have any business calling him back when she didn’t really trust him. If she tried to tell him she believed him before she could wipe the distrustful look off her face, it would only hurt him more.

Anne’s body gave out, and she lost all strength. She let go of Challe’s sleeve and sat down with a thump on the stairs of the cargo hold. She covered her face with both hands.

“Now…I can’t enter this year’s candy fair…”

Challe was silent and looked off in the direction that Mithril had fled.

Jonas put his hand to his chin. Then after a few moments, he clapped his hands loudly.

“That’s it! Listen, Anne, don’t give up! You only have to make one piece of candy. Can’t we refine just enough silver sugar to do that before we arrive?”

“No way. First of all, I don’t even have sugar apples, the raw ingredient.”

“Oh, we’ve got sugar apples! I heard about this once at a Radcliffe Workshop meeting. There’s a sugar-apple grove that grows alongside the Bloody Highway. Though apparently, no one ever goes there to pick apples, since they would have to spend all their profits paying for protection just to get there. It’s autumn now, so the trees should have fruit!”

Sugar-apple trees are mysterious things.

Trees cultivated by human hands never bear fruit.

Only those growing wild produce fruit.

Because of that, candy crafters are obsessed with knowing where sugar-apple tree groves are located and how to obtain their fruit.

If this grove had been a topic of discussion at a meeting of the Radcliffe Workshop, it was most likely true.

However—

“Even if we get sugar apples, it will take me three days to refine them. I won’t have time to make it to Lewiston and produce my piece for the competition.”

“Well, how about during the three days it takes to refine the silver sugar, you use the sugar you have left to create your candy? You can do both at the same time. Then once your entry is finished and you’ve refined enough silver sugar to replace what you’ve used, all that will be left is to travel the rest of the way to Lewiston.”

“I could never…”

She had been about to say she could never do such a thing, but finally, Anne’s mind started working again.

It just might be possible.

She raised her head and looked at Jonas. He nodded encouragingly.

“You can do it. Cheer up, Anne. I’m an amateur candy crafter, too, so I can help you.”

Jonas put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She was overwhelmed with gratitude for his kindness and for the information she needed to get out of her current predicament.

“Thank you, Jonas.”

Finally, Anne was able to smile just a little. She then looked up at Challe.

“I’m sorry, Challe. I kind of lost my head. And you were sleeping, too. Sorry for waking you.”

“It’s fine,” Challe said before turning his back coldly on Anne and returning to the fireside.

Anne and Jonas spread out a map on top of the driver’s seat of her wagon.

“If I’m not mistaken, there should be a sugar-apple grove in this area. It’s close to a way station. From there, you can refine the sugar and make it to Lewiston in no time,” Jonas said, pointing to a spot on the map.

The place he indicated was half a day away from Lewiston by horse-drawn wagon. Luckily, it was near a way station.

Ideally, Anne would have liked to harvest the sugar apples, then refine them into silver sugar after they were off the Bloody Highway. That would be safer.

However, if sugar apples are not refined immediately after harvesting, they’ll retain their characteristic bitterness. Sugar apples that spent even half a day jostling around in Anne’s carriage would never become fine silver sugar.

That meant Anne would have no choice but to stay at the nearby way station and refine the necessary quantity of silver sugar there.

From their present location, it would take three days to reach the sugar-apple grove.

It would take another day to find and harvest the fruit.

From there, three days to refine the sugar at the way station.

And half a day to get from the station to Lewiston.

The Royal Candy Fair was eight days away, and that included the day of the fair itself.

It would be close.

But not impossible.

Anne stared at the map with fresh determination.

“We’ll do our best, Anne.”

With that last word of encouragement, Jonas withdrew to his own wagon, accompanied by Cathy.

Anne returned to the fireside.

She had already settled down quite a lot.

She seated herself next to Challe and explained simply what she had discussed with Jonas.

When she finished, Anne hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top of them.

After silence had descended over the camp, Anne slowly looked around at her surroundings. Mithril was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, where’s Mithril?”

Tossing some twigs into the nearly extinguished fire, Challe answered, “Gone.”

“Where…did he go…?”

Anne cast her eyes down, tore up some dead grass, and threw it in the fire.

With a crackle, the grass burned instantly.

Even if Mithril was the culprit who had stolen her silver sugar, Anne thought it would have demonstrated real trust if she had believed him when he insisted he didn’t do it. She knew she’d come across like a prejudiced human when she doubted his word.

She felt even more miserable about it because she was just starting to find Mithril cute.

“Was it really him?” Challe muttered.

Anne raised her face. “Was who what?”

“Was it really Mithril who stole from you?” Challe mumbled doubtfully with a slight scowl.

Considering the circumstances, it would have been impossible for anyone but Mithril to have done it.

But Challe had a point. It was hard to imagine why Mithril, who had been so keen to repay his favor to Anne that he’d followed her all this way, would do something so thoughtless. Perhaps he had succumbed to the sweet temptation of the silver sugar.

Or perhaps it had been someone else.

But Anne also didn’t want to think Cathy was lying.

“I don’t know… I don’t know who really stole the silver sugar… The more important thing now is obtaining the sugar apples. I’m going to enter this year’s candy fair, no matter what… I’m sorry. I forgot to make the sugar candy I promised I would make you, Challe. Well, I remembered and was about to make it, but…now I’m going to have to postpone that for a little while. But when I give back your wing, I’ll add some candy as a present along with it. I promise.”

As she said that, Anne crawled into her cot and pulled the blanket up over herself. Challe just sat there quietly.

Will I make it in time? Please let me make it somehow. Please, Mama.

Challe Fenn Challe sat gazing into the fire.

It didn’t make sense. How had the silver sugar disappeared?

Considering the circumstances, the most likely possibility was that Mithril had eaten it.

But Mithril didn’t seem like the culprit to Challe.

He was noisy and annoying, but Mithril was grateful to Anne from the bottom of his heart. Challe did not believe he would have done something so thoughtless, knowing how much trouble it would cause for Anne.

But if it wasn’t Mithril…then who?

For three days, Anne drove her boxy wagon onward, thinking only of making progress.

She hardly even took breaks for lunch.

It was dangerous to travel at night, so they couldn’t move the wagons after dark. They took refuge at the way stations and impatiently waited for dawn.

Fortunately, the party suffered no attacks from bandits or beasts, and a little past noon on the third day, they arrived at the way station that was supposed to be close to the sugar-apple grove.

Another half a day of riding would take them to the royal capital.

The final way station sat atop a small hill. From there, Anne could look out over the wilderness, far into the distance. Past the sparse forest and the big, meandering river, she could see the spires of the royal castle, small on the horizon.

It struck her that Lewiston was close at hand.

But close though her destination may have been, Anne could not leave just yet. She clenched her fists.

I’ve got to get my hands on those sugar apples quickly.

The following day, Anne set out in one of the carriages with Jonas at first light.

They left the highway and rode about checking the many stands of trees that were scattered around the forest, searching for the sugar-apple grove.

Then when the sun was high in the sky, bright-red fruit caught Anne’s eye.

“…Sugar apples.”

Anne felt so relieved that her legs threatened to give out under her.

The sugar-apple trees were short. The tallest of them only reached as high as the top of Anne’s head.

The trees were dainty, with countless branches about the size of human fingers stretching out from their slender trunks. On the tips of those slim branches were deep-crimson fruits, each about the size of a chicken egg. They looked a lot like ordinary apples. They were glossy and red, like they had been varnished with wax.

Anne felt a surge of motivation after their surprisingly quick discovery of the sugar apples.

“I’m going to make it. If I work on my entry while I refine these sugar apples, I can make it to Lewiston with time to spare!”

She leaped down off the driver’s seat and pulled out a basket from her wagon.

Anne tossed one apple after another into her basket, and Jonas helped, too.

When it was full, they quickly transferred the apples to the cargo hold and refilled the basket. After repeating that five or six times, the floor of the cargo hold was so buried in shades of red that there was no place left to step.

Anne cheered up at the sight of the red color of the sugar apples. Emma had often said she felt the same way.

For three days, they had dashed down the Bloody Highway to find this grove.

In her haste, Anne had let the gloomy feelings about Mithril and how she’d treated him fall by the wayside.

She was looking forward, not back. As long as she had hope, she would charge ahead without hesitation.

If she worked hard, she could make it in time.

“Let’s get to work!”

Anne rolled up her sleeves as soon as they got back to the way station with a wagon full of sugar apples.

As she retrieved a huge pot and ladle out of the cargo hold, Anne spoke to Challe, who was lying down on the driver’s seat, dangling his long legs over the side.

“Once I make my entry piece for the candy fair, I’m going to make some candy to give to you right away, Challe. Just wait, okay?”

“Something edible, please.”

Anne laughed off his rude response.

“I told you, I’ll show you my skills!” Anne answered in a lively voice. She started tossing the sugar apples into the big pot, humming as she went.

Challe sat up a little bit and watched Anne happily working away.

The sugar apple tree is said to be deceitful.

It grows bright-red, glossy, delicious-looking fruits. They can be turned into precious silver sugar. However, if one bites into a piece of that same fruit, it is extremely bitter and astringent, completely inedible. The tree grows fruit that betrays all expectations.

In the hands of candy crafters, even that treacherous fruit is transformed into the purest sweetness.

To make silver sugar, one must first fill a large pot with water and add a handful of silver sugar, then place the freshly harvested sugar apples into the pot and leave them to soak for a whole day and night. Doing so removes the bitterness.

Toss out that water, refill the pot with fresh water, and place it over a fire.

The sugar apples fall apart during cooking, so when the seeds and skin come floating to the surface, scoop them out along with any scum and boil down the rest.

When the mixture becomes syrupy, transfer it from the pot to a level stone slab. Spread it evenly, then let it dry for another full day and night.

When it dries, it will change color and form pure-white lumps. The final step is to grind the lumps in a mortar and make a powder.

Then the silver sugar is done. It will be bright white with a slight tinge of blue.

Compared with sugar refined from sugarcane, which has a yellow tinge and a strong taste, the fine grain and powdery texture of silver sugar has a pale color and a fresh sweetness to it, leaving a nice aftertaste. It is truly a sacred food.

Once she was done putting her crop of sugar apples in water to soak, Anne immediately set to work making the candy she would present at the Royal Candy Fair.

In the darkness, a cold drizzling rain fell.

Challe had moved the wolf carcasses outside the way station.

Still, the damp smell of rain and blood lingered.

The wolves had trampled the partially refined silver sugar, and it became filthy with their blood even before mixing with rainwater. Raindrops sent ripples through the slush.

Anne sat inside the wagon Jonas had left behind.

The interior of the cargo hold was set up exactly like Anne’s. It was a workshop for making sugar candy.

The broken remains of half-completed candies lay scattered on the floor.

The top of the workbench was littered with papers covered in candy designs. All of them looked to be copies of the candy designs Emma had left behind.

Inside the cargo hold were also five barrels, and all were packed with silver sugar.

It was premeditated from the very beginning. Everything he said was a lie…

Jonas was in a position to become the next maestro of the Radcliffe Workshop. But in order for that to happen, he had to become a Silver Sugar Master first.

He had told her that he’d entered the Royal Candy Fair twice in the past but had yet to become a Silver Sugar Master. That despite his prior losses, he wasn’t planning to participate in the candy fair this year.

She ought to have been suspicious of that.

Jonas had probably lost his confidence because of his previous failures.

But he wanted to achieve the rank of Silver Sugar Master, even if that meant resorting to theft. Once he achieved that title, he would have the chance to become the maestro of the Radcliffe Workshop. He might even become the Silver Sugar Viscount, as he’d always hoped.

The sort of people who earn royal medals and become Silver Sugar Masters are those with a sincere love for sugar candy, for whom profits are a secondary consideration. Only people like that can create splendid works of candy art.

Jonas only seemed concerned with glory.

Even if he did become a Silver Sugar Master, he would never care all that much about candy. He didn’t take it seriously.

Jonas must have been worrying about his future when a sick and helpless Silver Sugar Master and her daughter fell right into his lap.

He had obviously decided to put them to use.

First, he had stolen into Emma and Anne’s wagon and plagiarized Emma’s candy designs.

But even with those designs, he’d been incapable of making the candy to his satisfaction. Though confident in his talents, he had no confidence in the candies he created.

“That was why he proposed to me…”

The reason Jonas had proposed to Anne was to coax her into making sugar candy for him, to enable him to obtain the title of Silver Sugar Master on the back of her work.

But there, too, Jonas had failed.

That must have been when he’d had the idea of stealing Anne’s candy and entering it as his own creation for the Royal Candy Fair.

The people of the Anders household had fully supported this plan.

Jonas’s parents had provided their son with a wagon and bodyguards for his scheme.

If their son became the maestro of the Radcliffe Workshop, it would bring great prosperity to the whole Anders family.

Then, Jonas had followed Anne to the candy fair, journeyed with her, and stolen a portion of her silver sugar.

Cathy was probably the one who had actually stolen the sugar. She had the power to turn invisible. So the night that they stayed at the Doctor’s Inn, she must have sneaked in through the high windows and carried the silver sugar out bit by bit. There could be no doubt about it.

That had left Anne scrambling to refine more sugar and make her candy at the same time.

As Anne wouldn’t have enough silver sugar left after making her entry for the candy fair, it meant she didn’t have the three barrels that were required.

Jonas had brought the missing silver sugar into Anne’s wagon under the guise of bringing her an empty barrel. Doing so, he could steal the candy along with the wagon the moment it was finished.

Lastly, Jonas executed the final part of his plan.

He made Cathy lure the wolves to keep Challe occupied.

So he could take Anne’s wagon and run off.

Jonas had successfully gotten away with one work of candy art and three barrels’ worth of silver sugar.

It was half a day’s ride to Lewiston.

In the afternoon, Jonas would be able to run straight there without an escort.

Anne was left with five barrels full of silver sugar, a brand-new wagon, and a worn-out old horse.

She had plenty of silver sugar. But the fair was in two days.

Actually, since it was already evening, there was really only one night and one day left.

Anne didn’t have enough time to make another large sugar-candy sculpture suitable for a festival.

I can’t make it in time.

The Royal Candy Fair was held every year. Even if Anne didn’t make it this year, there would always be the next.

But this year’s Pure Soul Day was Anne’s only chance to see Emma’s soul off on its way to heaven.

The sugar candy for Emma’s ceremony didn’t really have to be something that Anne made herself. She could get a more veteran Silver Sugar Master to create a magnificent piece of candy, and that would probably be just fine.

However, Anne wanted to send her beloved mother off with a piece of candy made by her daughter, who had achieved the title Silver Sugar Master.

This thought had been keeping Anne afloat since her mother’s passing, spurring her to continue forward.

Without her motivation, Anne’s willpower drained completely from her body.

Jonas’s unexpected betrayal left her in shock. She had believed him to be a good person and ended up suspecting Mithril Lid Pod of eating her silver sugar. She felt foolish for her inability to believe the fairy. Just recalling Mithril’s tearful eyes pained her.

Anne felt like a naive idiot for believing Jonas. She was remorseful and angry.

Those emotions filled the gap her heart, making her whole body feel sluggish and heavy.

She couldn’t take a single step.

The wound on the back of her right hand, where Jonas had hit her with the whip, throbbed painfully, as if to remind her of her own foolishness.

“If I won’t make it in time for this year’s candy fair, there’s no point,” Anne muttered, placing both hands on the workbench. She hung her head and chuckled slightly.

“I’m so stupid. There I was, eagerly making my candy…”

She staggered out of the cargo hold, and the cold rain fell on her.

Anne had been drenched in a bloody liquid, and both her body and her dress were sticky and carried a terrible odor.

She was unbearably miserable.

Suddenly, she sensed someone looking at her. She saw Challe, standing beneath a tree near the wall of the way station. He had his arms folded and was looking at her with his usual arrogance.

In the end, I’m just a naive little fifteen-year-old girl.

I’m weak, I know nothing, and I have no one to depend on. I’m all alone.

Anne felt ashamed to have Challe see her in such a wretched state. She couldn’t stand it. She didn’t want him to look at her.

She reeled in the leather cord hanging from her neck and pulled up the little bag.

She then stalked over to Challe and thrust the bag toward him.

“I’m returning your wing.”

Challe didn’t move. He stared intently at the bag and asked, “We’re not in Lewiston yet. Aren’t you going to chase Jonas down? Aren’t you going to get your candy back?”

“Jonas has already arrived in Lewiston by now. He’s probably already registered for the candy fair and handed the candy sculpture over to the officials. Even if I went there now and claimed that I made the sculpture, I have no proof. They wouldn’t listen to me.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course I’m not…but…there’s nothing I can do! Even with your help… So I may as well give you your freedom. Go wherever you like!” Anne vented, hanging her head.

After a short time, Challe gently lifted the bag out of Anne’s palm.

“So now we’re equals?”

Anne shook her head.

“You’ve been my equal from the start, Challe…from start to finish. Even though that was the whole purpose of buying you, I never managed to become your master.”

“Somehow, I knew that when I first saw you in the fairy market.”

Challe’s words were gentle. His voice was calm like the sound of the rain.

“That was why I told you to buy me. I thought that with a naive little girl, I could easily steal my wing back and escape.”

“You must be happy. Everything went according to plan.”

“…I’m not sure. I don’t know.”

Anne sensed Challe move away from the tree trunk.

He walked straight past her, slowly heading toward the iron doors of the way station.

All alone. All alone.

Something kept repeating in her head. Sobs started to escape from her throat.

All the feelings she had been bottling up came flooding out. She couldn’t stop it. Everything that had been propping up Anne’s heart crumbled all at once.

“Mama! Mama! Why did you die?! Why did you leave me alone? You left me alone. Why…why?!”

Anne sank to the ground. She buried her head in her knees and let the rain soak her.

How long has it been since I held my wing in my own hands?

Seven years…

No, I feel like it’s been longer.

He looked down at the small leather pouch in his hand.

As the raindrops hit him, Challe Fenn Challe took in the tranquil atmosphere of a wilderness unspoiled by human hands. The way station behind him got farther away with every step.

Farther away. The girl with the sweet scent got farther away.

It was strange. Though Challe had obtained his freedom, he didn’t feel happy about it.

He pondered why that was and soon understood the reason.

It was because he had never listened to any of Anne’s orders. Because from the moment that Anne had purchased him, without even realizing it, he’d already achieved his freedom. So really, he had no reason to celebrate.

All that had happened was his wing had changed hands.

The one difference now was that the burden called “Anne” was no longer with him. The sweet girl who had done nothing but safely carry his wing on her breast.

He was free to choose where to go.

He was free to choose what to do.

Now that he had complete freedom, he suddenly questioned himself.

I got my freedom. So what do I want to do? Where do I want to go?

Darkness was closing in.

Break down… Something suddenly whispered in his ear.

I won’t break down. If anyone’s breaking down, it’s her. The goal she was desperately chasing was torn away right before her eyes.

Feeling lonely? The thing whispered again, coaxing him.

Lonely?

Challe had nothing he had to protect and nowhere he had to go.

Even though this was the moment he had imagined in his dreams, the moment he regained his freedom, Challe had the feeling of receding into his own mind, of shrinking, of being isolated from the world.

Then, he felt an overwhelming longing for something.

Was it for a long-vanished memory of the distant past that would never return?

No.

Memories of the past were vacant, empty. They only chilled Challe’s heart.

The thing he longed for was something warmer. Something he’d experienced more concretely.

I felt it until just a short while ago. It was…

A sweet smell. The warmth of life.

That sweet scent must have dissolved in the cold rain and vanished completely.

Challe remembered all the silver sugar that had spilled onto the ground earlier, and he stopped walking. He found himself wishing he could scoop up the scattered sugar with both hands.

As the rain continued falling on Anne, she soon became chilled from head to toe. She had already run out of tears.

Even as morning dawned and the rain lifted, she could not so much as lift her head, and she remained in a stupor.

But when she felt the brightness and warmth of the morning sun on her back, her mind suddenly cleared.

Looking up, she spotted a cluster of small blue fruits at the tip of a withered stalk of grass.

Bathed in rain and the light of the morning sun, the berries were glossy and shiny.

The color and sheen penetrated Anne’s mind, which was drained of all thought.

She gazed at the cluster mindlessly.

As she did, beads of light emanated from the bunch of fruit, covering the surface of the small blue berries. It was reminiscent of the effect that appeared when Challe produced his sword. The illumination gathered on one particular berry and gradually solidified, growing to about the size of a thumb. It condensed and started to take shape.

Anne stared in awe.

The beads of light formed a small head, as well as two arms and two legs. It may have been as big as a thumb, but it was definitely taking the shape of a person. Two translucent wings unfurled on its back.

Enveloped in a veil of light was a dainty feminine figure. It was a fairy.

“…So pretty…,” Anne mumbled unconsciously.

Atop the blue fruit, the fairy sat quietly with her legs folded. She vacantly surveyed her surroundings, then stretched and yawned.

The moment of a fairy’s birth. Anne was enchanted by the sublime and quiet brilliance of it.

She could hardly believe that such a pure radiance existed in the world.

“Fairies are born when the energy of something condenses and takes form.”

Suddenly, Anne heard a voice from behind her. She turned around in surprise.

“Challe…? Why…?”

The warrior fairy knelt down beside her.

Anne stared at him, overcome with surprise.

Without answering her question, Challe kept his eyes on the newborn and said, “Humans divide fairies into categories based on the purpose for which they use us. Worker fairies, pet fairies, warrior fairies. But we categorize ourselves based on our origin. Mithril is a water sprite. I am a stone sprite. That fairy was born from a berry, so she is a plant sprite. Her life span is probably only a year. She’s short-lived. Even so, I envy her… My life span is…too long.”

Fairies do not change from the time they are born until they die. Challe must have borne his current form the moment he was birthed. And fairies live about as long as the thing from which they emerge.

Challe had been born from a piece of obsidian.

Anne wondered just how long he would exist as he did now.

Trying to imagine it was mind-boggling. At the same time, she felt a pain like she was being wrung out to dry when she heard Challe say he was jealous of the new fairy’s fleeting existence.

Atop a small hill surrounded by a moat stood an enormous, sprawling castle. Eight large, cobblestone boulevards radiated out from the hill with the castle at its center, as if to draw all eyes to the monarch inside.

The Royal Candy Fair was held on the broadest of the eight thoroughfares, the triumphal road that led directly to the front gate of the castle. A white tent had been erected in the plaza before the castle gate, and underneath it was a riser with seats meant for the members of the royal family attending the fair.

Such festivals were very popular in the royal capital. The plaza was crowded with people trying to get a glimpse of the royal family.

Sitting at the center of everyone’s attention were the king and queen. With them were the princesses and princes. Anyone would sigh at their dazzling outfits and gorgeous looks.

In front of the royal seating stood a long table covered with a white sheet. On top of the table sat a line of sugar-candy sculptures, each so large that a person could have barely wrapped their arms around them.

Every single one of them was sure to be richly colored with detailed handiwork.

But at the moment, all the candy sculptures were covered with cloth, obscuring what lay beneath.

Behind each of the entries stood the crafter who had made it. Since they were appearing before the king, all were dressed in their finest clothes.

Jonas was there, too, wearing a splendid fur vest.

The man in charge of the Royal Candy Fair was the Earl of Downing. He was an old man who had distinguished himself for his tact as the minister of home affairs during the previous king’s reign. He had since withdrawn from that position, but even so, he was an elder statesman greatly trusted by the current monarch.

This esteemed gentleman confirmed that all the candy artists in attendance and that every member of the royal family was seated.

Just as the Earl of Downing was standing to make the opening announcement that would begin the judging process—

—a section of the crowd began to stir.

The earl scowled, wondering what could possibly be the matter, as a single boxy wagon came charging through the spectators.

“Watch out!!”

“Stop that wagon!”

The guards ran forward, and the small girl driving the carriage yanked on the reins and pulled her horse to a stop. She then jumped down from the driver’s seat, slipped right past all the guards, and rushed into the plaza.

Behind her, as if to protect her, was a young man with black hair.

The girl was trying to dash to the front of the tent where the Earl of Downing stood.

“Seize her!”

One of the guards grabbed the girl’s arm, but her raven-haired protector unleashed a hard kick to the man’s stomach. The guard was sent sprawling into the crowd. The girl was free again.

The young man shouted to the girl, “Go!”

She kept running.

The bold fellow fearlessly fought against the guards and their spears, preventing any of them from following.

That was when people finally noticed that the young man had a single beautiful wing on his back.

“Don’t you touch that girl!”

“Are you…a fairy?!”

Right in front of the tent where the Earl of Downing still stood, the intruder, who had been running at full speed, tripped. She lost her footing and pitched forward.

But even after tumbling to the ground, she kept her face up and shouted desperately, out of breath:

“I can see you haven’t yet announced the opening of the Royal Candy Fair. If that’s the case, then it should still be possible for me to enter, which I would like to do. I am a candy crafter. My name is Anne Halford. My place of origin is unknown!”

A guard leaped from the tent and pinned Anne where she had fallen. “You disrespectful wretch!” he shouted.

However, a cheerful, amused voice interjected from behind the stunned earl. “Just when I thought you weren’t coming! My, my, what a flashy entrance that was!! You truly are an interesting specimen, Anne.”

Anne’s eyes went wide at the sound of the familiar voice.

A young aristocrat stepped out from behind the earl. He wore formal clothing ornamented with silver embroidery. Without a doubt, it was the attire of the Silver Sugar Viscount.

The man wearing it had a familiar face and wild brown eyes.

“Hugh?!”

“Mercury. Do you know this girl?” the Earl of Downing asked Hugh.

Mercury?

Anne focused on the familiar man’s face.

Hugh Mercury?! The maestro of the Mercury Workshop and the current Silver Sugar Viscount?!

“Yes. I know for a fact that this girl is a simple candy crafter. There’s no need to be alarmed. The fairy over there is her bodyguard.”

Hearing this, the Earl of Downing raised his hand and gestured toward the guards, who were still holding their spears at the ready.

“Fine. Stand down over there. This girl wishes to enter the competition.”

The guards surrounding Challe and the one pinning Anne down all followed the earl’s orders and stepped back.

Anne pushed herself to her knees.

The Earl of Downing looked back at her and asked, “I can see that you are young. Despite your youth, you announce your intention to enter. You seem to know what you are doing. Who taught you?”

“My mother. My mother was a Silver Sugar Master.”

“I see. Your statement of entry was well-made. But are you aware that there are other procedures?”

“Yes. The candy crafter states their intention to enter to the Earl of Downing, then after that, the Silver Sugar Viscount will ascertain whether the crafter is skilled enough that their work will not offend the eyes of His Majesty the King by making them produce a simple piece of candy. Once deemed acceptable, the candidate will be permitted to enter.”

“That’s right. And that process finished yesterday. Furthermore, His Majesty is already in attendance, and we are about to start the candy fair. There is no time to test your skill now.”

“I will complete the test as quickly as possible. Please let me try!”

The Earl of Downing seemed moved by her desperation and turned back to Hugh to consult with him.

“What do you say, Mercury?”

“There is no time to test her now.”

His response was curt. Anne bit her lip and cast her eyes down.

But Hugh kept grinning.

“However, Earl, as luck would have it, I tested this girl’s skills just the other day. I know that they will not offend the eyes of His Majesty.”

At those words, Anne lifted her head. When her eyes met Hugh’s, he gave her a cheerful wink.

The Earl of Downing nodded.

“Very well. If the Silver Sugar Viscount deems you worthy, you are permitted to enter.”

He pointed to the table where the candy sculptures were all lined up.

“Now then, go and get your three barrels of silver sugar and give them to the guards so they can carry them to the edge of the plaza. Then, set the candy you have made over there, stand behind it, and await the judgment of the royal family.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you very much.”

Anne stood up and bowed in gratitude. She dusted off her now dirt-covered clothes.

The curious gazes of the onlookers and the participating candy crafters followed Anne as she stepped out into the middle of the plaza.

Her competitors were all dressed in their finest.

Anne, on the other hand, wore baggy men’s clothes that didn’t fit her, and her hair and face were dirty. Her slim body looked even skinnier than it was, and she looked much younger than her age. She also had a beautiful fairy accompanying her, the likes of whom no one had ever seen before.

Who could that be? People whispered to one another as they stared in curiosity.

Oddly enough, the spot where Anne had been told to line up was right next to Jonas.

Jonas had nervously watched everything unfold.

When Anne stood beside him, he sneered and tried to act tough.

“Wow, Anne, my clothes look great on you, don’t they? Anyway, you have a candy sculpture?”

Anne shot Jonas an intense glare.

“Thanks for your concern. These clothes came in handy. And don’t worry about me; I’ve got my candy.”

“Well then, hurry up and put it on the table. Where is it?”

“Right here.”

Anne stepped forward and set a small object covered in a cloth atop the white table.

Scornful laughter erupted among the spectators and candy crafters when they saw it.

Jonas snorted with laughter as well.

“Well, considering the time, I suppose that’s about the best you could do, huh? I’m impressed by your courage, Anne. To think you would enter with a piece the size of a child’s treat.”

Staring at the royal family’s tent directly in front of her, Anne answered, “I’m astonished by you, too, Jonas. Entering someone else’s work—how shameless can you be?”

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Do you think you can fool Hugh’s eye? He’s the Silver Sugar Viscount. You ought to know how attentive he is from what happened at the Doctor’s Inn.”

Jonas’s expression stiffened ever so slightly, but his mouth immediately relaxed into a smile.

“When I registered, I was surprised to learn that Hugh was the Silver Sugar Viscount. But he only became Viscount six months ago. He acts self-important, but he’s new to the post. He didn’t say a thing when he saw my candy that I brought this time.”

“There’s no way he doesn’t know.”

“I wonder?”

After making sure that Anne’s piece had been placed on the table, the Earl of Downing raised his hand and made the announcement.

“The Royal Candy Fair is hereby open. The title of Silver Sugar Master shall be granted to the most outstanding candy crafter in the kingdom.”

One of the officials managing the candy fair instructed the crafters, “Everyone, present your sugar candy to His Majesty.”

When he said this, they all simultaneously removed the cloths covering their sculptures.

The onlookers sighed when they saw the row of gorgeous candies.

The king was leaning on his armrest, sweeping a cursory gaze over the entries from right to left, not showing much interest.

Then, the king’s eyes stopped. He leaned forward.

His focus was directed toward Jonas and Anne.

No way, did I catch his attention?!

Anne’s heartbeat quickened.

The king beckoned the Earl of Downing over and whispered something into his ear.

The earl nodded and walked over to the pair.

“You two crafters. Jonas Anders and Anne Halford. Bring your candies to His Majesty.”

Jonas and Anne locked eyes.

The spectators were puzzled and whispered to one another.

“The one on that side is clearly impressive. It surpasses all the rest; it’s an easy win. So why are they summoning that little one up in front of the king?”

“Don’t know; I can hardly see it from here.”

With the aid of a guard, Jonas set his sculpture on a table before the king. He knelt, his face stiff with nerves.

Anne nodded to Challe, who was standing in the crowd.

“Here I go.”

Cradling her candy gently in her hands, she carried it up to the king. She placed it on the table and knelt as well.

The king serenely rose to his feet and studied the sugar candies.

“How curious. Come here and take a look, Mercury.”

In a quiet voice, he called over the Silver Sugar Viscount.

Hugh approached the king’s side and nodded.

“The character of the pieces is similar, isn’t it? As if both candies were created by the same artist.”

At his words, Jonas cringed. Hugh’s eyes brightened.

“Your Majesty, which do you prefer?”

The king narrowed his scrutiny at Hugh’s question. His gaze was fixed on the small fairy sculpture.

“I like this one. It looks like it might shatter at any moment. It’s ephemeral. Yet it’s also truly alive. I’ve never seen such a beautiful piece of candy.”

“Indeed.”

“I think that this sugar candy is the best. How about it? I am of the opinion that this candy crafter is worthy of becoming a Silver Sugar Master.”

No way, no way, Anne thought, her heart pounding faster as she continued staring at the ground.

However—

“That candy sculpture is truly splendid, Your Majesty, but…”

—from behind the king came the queen’s calm voice.

“But, Your Majesty, the requirement was to make something large and flashy to serve as a centerpiece for the festival. Even if she has the skill to make this small piece, it remains a question whether she has the ability to create something sizable. I think you ought to consider what qualities make someone worthy of the title.”

“That is true…”

The king was silent for a while. Anne’s heartbeat quickened even more.

“I’ve decided,” the king pronounced. “I have decided. This crafter is worthy of becoming a Silver Sugar Master. Your name?”

The Earl of Downing answered:

“Jonas Anders.”

“All right, then, I will make the proclamation. I award the royal medal to the sugar candy brought forth by Jonas Anders. The person who made this work is this year’s Silver Sugar Master.”

The spectators stirred.

When she sensed Jonas lift his head, Anne went limp.

Nice to meet you, everyone. My name is Miri Mikawa.

This book is a revised edition of the work that received the Special Jury Award in the Seventh Beans Novel Contest.

When I sent in my entry, the thing I was most worried about was that I might have mistakenly violated the rules of the competition. I realize that’s not what I should have been concerned about, but at that time, I was afraid the judges would toss my manuscript out without even reading it because of a transgression.

I read the application rules carefully, and the one that gave me the most trouble was the stipulation that the books had to be “between one hundred fifty and three hundred pages when converted to a four-hundred-character manuscript paper.” I wondered whether the white spaces counted as characters for the conversion.

I wanted to ask someone, but I didn’t know anyone who might have had the answer. Besides, even if I had known someone, I was sure it was a stupid question… A bit like asking, Teacher, do bananas count as a snack?

So I decided that, regardless of whether the line breaks and blank spaces were included in the character count or not, I would make sure that my page count wouldn’t fall outside the range stated in the rules. That way, I would be safe.

I trimmed down the dialogue and further refined the story.

I ended up with a manuscript that met the page count.

Then when the manuscript was being turned into a book, it wound up several dozen pages too short, and I found out I needed to revise it.

I had been overly worried about the rules of the contest and had cut my work to satisfy the conditions, but it turned out to be shorter than a typical book.

But thanks to being allowed to make revisions, I had a little more leeway to expand my tightly-packed story.

I hope it’s at least a little better now than what I originally submitted.

I have nothing but gratitude for the esteemed judges who carefully read through the manuscript that I so nervously submitted and selected it as a winner. I’d also like to express my heartfelt thanks to everyone in the editorial department who kindly read it after it was chosen and to everyone who was part of the selection process.

In addition, I need to thank the managers who were very friendly and considerate to someone like me, who is still so useless. I say a little prayer whenever I’m treated so nicely. Thank you so much. I look forward to working with you in the future.

And—and I have to mention Aki, who drew the illustrations. I can’t tell you how happy I was when I learned that you would be drawing for me. The pictures of Anne and Challe that you illustrated are just wonderful. They’re such lucky characters!

I’m getting to the end here, but now I need to say something to all the people who picked up a copy of this book.

If it wasn’t to your liking, I am truly sorry. My apologies. Please have a laugh and forget all about it.

If it was to your liking, hooray! Thank you, I love you!

To each and every one of you, once again, thank you very much.

Miri Mikawa