The marble corridor stretched into infinity. The palace gleamed as though it had captured starlight in a trap. Stained-glass windows blazed with color. Massive carved oak panels lined the walls. Trophies of ancient wars hung between them. Every object seemed to beat in time with history itself.
Randel walked a step ahead, gesturing with the carefree flourish of a tour guide.
“Look at this window! The deeds of my great-grandfather. Impressive, isn’t it?”
His voice was utterly different here—no longer the commanding thunder from the throne room. It rang youthful, alive, burning, like a skald recounting a saga over mead.
“And this—” he pointed at an enormous weapon mounted on the wall, eyes flashing. “The halberd of my great-grandfather, Karsten Eichenwald. Legend says he cleaved an ice giant of the Peaks in a single blow!” (Heh, probably embellished… but I do love those stories.)
Yet only the sound of footsteps answered him. The rhythmic clank of Amanda’s golden armor against marble. Nothing else. No questions. No gasps of awe. Only deep, forest-like silence.
(…Hey, seriously? Is she even listening?)
A faint unease stirred in Randel’s chest. He stopped beside a tall arched window that opened onto the garden, where flowers swayed beneath the moon. Turning, he fixed his gaze on Amanda. A mischievous spark danced in his eyes.
“Hey, Lady Guardian?” He furrowed his brow theatrically, voice turning deliberately grumpy. “I’m practically killing myself here to impress you, and you look bored to death! Silence thick as the Eternal Forest of Vekka—what am I supposed to make of that?”
(Heh, that provocation ought to get a reaction.)
From beneath the helm came a soft sigh. Amanda’s voice emerged—slightly stiff, yet threaded with a hint of embarrassment.
“…It isn’t like that, Your Grace. I’m simply… accustomed to silence. I suppose.”
(Oh, she’s so awkward! But… it’s cute!) Randel’s heart gave a treacherous lurch. (Wait, wait—what was that flutter? Calm down, Randel!)
“Hmm, I see. Knight of Silence, is it?” He shrugged with exaggerated resignation. “I’m showing you the most magnificent palace in the North, and I can’t even get an ‘Oh wow’ or ‘No way’? I’m starting to feel lonely here!”
Amanda tilted her helm like a puzzled puppy.
“…O-oh wow?” She forced it out timidly, and her clumsy delivery made Randel burst into laughter.
“Ha-ha! You sound like you’re reading it off a cue card!”
He laughed freely, leaning against the window frame. (Damn, she’s hilarious. I just want to tease her more.)
Meanwhile, Amanda’s mind churned quietly but furiously. (What am I supposed to do? I’m not used to talking to people like this…) Something pinched deep in her chest, like a smoldering ember. (But his voice, his smile… they’re so warm. Like the first ray of sunlight piercing a dark forest.) Her fingers dug into the edge of her gauntlet. (I… want to keep listening to him. Probably.)
Randel watched her. This awe-inspiring, terrifying girl now looked shrunk, like an awkward teenager.
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Without a word—fluidly, confidently—he took her hand. The golden gauntlet was cool against his skin.
“I’m touching you again. You’re not angry, are you?”
His voice dropped, gentle. His thumb traced lightly over her knuckles—an almost unconscious motion.
Alarm bells screamed inside Amanda. (WHAT?! My face is on fire! What is happening?!)
Her cheeks blazed. She shook her head frantically. Words stuck in her throat.
Randel smiled—a warm, understanding smile.
“Good. You know, it’s hard for people to trust. Something happened in the past that made you close yourself off, didn’t it?”
His hand tightened slightly around hers—supportive, tender strength.
“But I… I’m always on your side. As is the entire duchy.”
You are not alone.
BOOM. BOOM-BOOM!
Amanda’s heart pounded as if trying to tear free from her ribcage.
(No! He’ll hear it echoing down the whole corridor!)
Beneath the helm, her face burned.
(Calm down! What is this feeling?! Brain, clear yourself!)
Her inner voice roared: (NO! GET A GRIP! You’re not a girl! Until death—until you were reborn into this body—you were a man, Yamada Light!)"
With desperate effort she stifled the panic and let Randel lead her onward.
(Damn it, why is this happening…? Heart, calm down!)
At last they reached an enormous carved door inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Randel threw it open with pride.
“Well? What do you think?”
He stepped aside to let her enter first.
The chamber was luxurious beyond fairy tales of kings: frescoed ceiling, a vast canopied bed, a merrily crackling fireplace. Through the balcony doors stretched the endless emerald sea of the Eternal Forest.
Amanda stepped inside, her gaze sliding over the opulence.
(Wow… In my previous life I only saw stuff like this in manga!)
And then— click!
A thought struck her like lightning.
She whirled around and grabbed Randel’s hand.
“Ah! Damn it, I forgot!”
Randel’s eyes widened; one brow twitched. Amanda clenched her free hand—light flared—and in her palm materialized a small burlap pouch that smelled of herbs.
“Here!” She thrust it at him, voice trembling with haste and embarrassment. “Keep applying it to the wounds! It… it’ll draw the last of the poison out!”
Randel accepted the pouch with both hands, as though it were a holy relic. He looked at it, then slowly raised his eyes—and smiled. A warm, recklessly sincere smile aimed straight at her helm.
(Oh! What is this destructive power?!)
Amanda’s knees nearly buckled.
And in that moment her gaze dropped to her own hand.
(…Huh?!)
She was still gripping his wrist tightly.
(WHAT?! I did that so boldly?! And that look in his eyes… My face is BURNING!)
Shame and mortification exploded inside her like a bomb.
WHOOSH!
Amanda leaped backward with ninja speed and grace.
BAM!
Her shoulder slammed into the doorframe.
“S-sorry!”
“D-don’t get the wrong idea! I’m not trying to… make you fall for me! You have a fiancée! I was just thinking about the herbs!”
Randel stared. The fearsome, majestic Guardian had just sprung away like a startled kitten while babbling about “making him fall for her.” First his shoulders shook. Then a choked laugh escaped. And finally—
“HA-HA-HA-HA!”
Thunderous, uncontrollable laughter rolled through the room. He laughed harder than he ever had in his life, clutching his side with his good arm.
“F-forgive me, princess…!” He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. “You’re just… utterly unpredictable!”
Amanda pressed herself against the wall, feeling her face blaze beneath the helm like hellfire. (AAAAA! This is so embarrassing! What kind of situation is this?!)
A hurricane of shame, confusion, and a strange, squeezing warmth raged inside her. And through it all pierced the voice of her “male” mind: (You’re Yamada Light! You’re acting like a rom-com heroine! Get it together, damn it!)
Randel finally calmed, though a soft smile lingered.
His voice turned serious again.
“Don’t worry about Lady Yui.”
The steel of the throne room returned.
“And… thank you for the herbs. For caring.”
He stepped back toward the door.
“Rest well. If you need anything, the servants are right outside.”
With that, he gently closed the door.
In the lavish chamber, Amanda stood utterly alone.
Slowly, as if in slow motion, she brought her hands to her helm. Through the cold metal, the heat of her cheeks seared her fingers.
“…Eh?”
Another small, quiet sound escaped into the silence-wrapped room.
Bewilderment. Shame. And… something else, beginning to sprout deep in her chest—unfamiliar, terrifying, and inevitable.
With all of that swirling inside her, she remained standing, alone, in the very heart of her new, impossibly complicated reality.