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(…) Snow-White grew up and became ever more beautiful. When she was seven years old she was as beautiful as the light of day, even more beautiful than the queen herself.

One day when the queen asked her mirror:
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who in this land is fairest of all?”

It answered:
“You, my queen, are fair; it is true.
But Snow-White is a thousand times fairer than you.”¹

The queen took fright and turned yellow and green with envy. From that hour on whenever she looked at Snow-White her heart turned over inside her body, so great was her hatred for the girl. (…)

Grimm, Jacob, et al. “LITTLE SNOW WHITE.” The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm: The First Edition (1812).

♢♦♢♦♢

“An exchange program…?”
“Yes, they have arranged for several high-ranking nobles and a prince from their side to enroll in the Imperial Academy. Although he’s not from the main royal bloodline, in return, we have received notice that several children of aristocrats, including myself, will be studying abroad starting next year.”

In response to my somewhat reflexive inquiry, Luke, after setting down the tea he was drinking, nodded with a solemn expression. There was a touch of self-deprecation when he mentioned the “youngest prince” and “direct descent from the king,” but maybe it was just my imagination.

Upon hearing this, the reactions of the others in the room varied. Monika and Eren, who stood against the wall, blinked in surprise, while Bruno and Lynn, silently savoring their strawberry daifuku and soy milk pudding, stole glances at our reactions. Pryui and Ashimi, on the other hand, seemed completely indifferent, enjoying their post-meal moments, sipping fragrant tea as if it were of no concern to them.

“That sounds…tough.”

I was supposed to be an outsider, so I responded appropriately, albeit distantly, while my mind wandered, pondering things like: “I believe their King is around 70 years old? So, if this youngest prince is still a student, he must be in his teens, right? Calculating backward, he’d be a child born when his father was around sixty. It’s quite concerning to have an elderly man in power with potential cognitive decline.” However, I soon realized I wasn’t really an outsider in this matter.

“It is. That’s why I’m here to ask you to accompany us to Cilento Imperial Academy as a fellow exchange student, Jill.”

“““—HAAH?!””” An almost cacophonic outburst echoed in the room upon these words, everyone reacting in surprise.

Disbelieving gazes turned toward Luke, questioning his statement. Despite the scrutiny, Luke maintained a serious expression, his eyes focused intently on mine. It was as if he were making a heartfelt plea, his charming appearance only making it more difficult to resist. I felt a sense of guilt, given the seriousness of his tone. From his demeanor, it was apparent this was no joke or jest.

“…Livitium’s capital, Cilento… is it.”

I sighed, directing my gaze upward.

Cilento, the capital city of the central Cilento Kingdom of the Livitium Imperial Kingdom² , also known as the Central Capital and the City of Scholars. That was the place I, or the original Syltianna, was meant to go before I literally lost my life and my destiny took a sharp turn. For me to go there now would be quite the twist of fate.

Of course, I knew Luke had no ulterior motives in bringing this up. If I forcefully ended the conversation right now, it would likely lead to something unrelated to me. However, since my friend had come all the way from the imperial capital to consult with me on his own (well, there were probably guards lurking in the shadows), it seemed rather heartless to cut the discussion short.

Furthermore, I can’t keep evading the topic of Livitium forever. I mean, it’s just small talk. What can possibly go wrong…right?

Nevertheless…

(—For some reason, this one feels inescapable… I feel like I will be stuck forever if I don’t settle it properly… Ugh, so my past finally comes up to me. Goodbye, my days of peace…)

With a sense of foreboding, as if I had heard the footsteps of the inevitable grim reaper I had always anticipated, I shivered with a gloomy feeling.

♢♦♢♦♢

—Now then.

Currently, we were in the 30 merte-wide parlor of the Brandmüller mansion. Except for Ashimi, everyone was an unexpected guest, but they were all dear friends. So, instead of the main hall, we moved to this adjacent reception room and sat at a rectangular dining table. We served them a selection of vegetarian dishes primarily made with seasonal vegetables and tofu that I prepared.

In general, upper-class young ladies don’t engage in cooking themselves. At first, the head housekeeper, Beatrice, didn’t seem too pleased with the idea, but thanks to Miss Christy’s endorsement with lines like, “Jill’s cooking is so delicious. I could eat it every day,” —is she proposing to me or what?³ — she got more lenient about me working in the kitchen. Furthermore, I was able to establish the noble cause of developing the menu for the Brandmüller family’s own cafe, Letindüte. So, now I have relatively free access to the kitchen.

For this occasion, since we had the elves with us, we couldn’t use animal-based ingredients, so the menu was primarily centered around tofu dishes made with basic vegetarian dashi. Fortunately, it turned out to be a well-received post-exercise meal for everyone. By the way, I was the only one sitting in the chair with armrests at the head of the table. Our house steward, Royce, stood behind me, and the maids, Monika and Eren, were positioned along the wall.

Miss Christy, the owner of this mansion, was currently staying in the Imperial Capital due to a scheduled regular report, so I, as the representative of the Baron’s family, served as the formal head, while in practice, Royce managed all the day-to-day affairs.

As for the administrative work, it was primarily overseen by Curtiss the butler, with the assistance of the administrative staff, so that’s completely out of my hands.

“…I don’t mind going to the capital, but something tells me mentor…I mean, the higher-ups are going to burden me with more reckless tasks. Good lord, I really don’t want to go,” said Miss Christy, pressing her finger against her temple and groaning. She left two days ago, so by now she was probably either having dinner at the Imperial Capital’s secondary residence or buried in paperwork.

With the roles established, I took the seat at the head of the table as the hostess. Typically, in noble dining settings, it’s customary to arrange an even number of chairs, with two on the short sides and four on the long sides of the table. The seat at the head is furthest from the entrance, and this time, as I was the only one hosting, I had a single chair at the head. The right of honor, adjacent to me, was occupied by Ashimi, followed by Pryui on his right. Next in rank, sitting to my left and facing me, were Luke, Bruno, and Lynn. While Luke held a higher social status, this time, Ashimi was the ‘guest of honor,’ so he was seated closer to the head. This arrangement was handled by Royce.

We enjoyed a pleasant meal together and were currently sipping tea after finishing our dinner.

During our conversation, the topic turned to each person’s recent experiences. According to Ashimi, life in the Elven village remained relatively unchanged, except for a somewhat surprising tofu trend.

“Speaking of which, about one or two months ago, there was a pair of father and son beans living in hiding in the forest,” Ashimi added, “They attempted to cross the mountains and inadvertently stepped onto the ‘Fairy Path.’ They naturally lost their footing and were sent flying somewhere across the continent.”

Such was the light-hearted banter we’ve had.

…could they be the missing former village head and his son? Even if they were, there’s no way of confirming it now. All I can do is hope they didn’t end up inside a volcano crater or in the middle of a desert.

1. Mab: FBI OPEN UP!!
2. Mab: So there’s Cilento the kingdom, which is the center of the llivitium imperial kingdom. And then there’s Cilento imperial capital, the capital city of Cilento Kingdom.
   Either author too lazy or just don’t understand geopolitics.
   
3. Mab: in Japan, “I want to eat your miso soup everyday” is equal to “marry me.”