Ophelia lifted her skirt and jumped down from the carriage, her movements as light as a butterfly. The lace trim of her pure white winter dress fluttered up and down as she ran, and her amber eyes lit up the instant she spotted Kloe.
“Kloe!” Ophelia’s voice was filled with unrestrained delight. “It really is you!”
Loran, standing off to the side, seemed momentarily dazed as he watched her. He only snapped back to his senses with a sharp intake of breath when Kloe gave his lower back a hard pinch.
“Pardon me.”
The girl’s voice was a little cold. She stepped half a pace back and, together with Aelia, offered a formal greeting.
Ophelia blinked, her gaze flicking between Kloe and Loran several times. It was as if she hadn’t noticed Kloe’s awkwardness at all. She spread her arms wide and pulled the silver-haired girl into a solid hug.
“It’s been so long—” She rested her chin lightly on Kloe’s shoulder, nuzzling her gently. “You look taller now, and your hair’s grown longer. You’ve become even prettier…”
Kloe’s body clearly stiffened for a moment. She awkwardly patted Ophelia on the back, her expression softening as she did.
“…You haven’t changed a bit. Still as silly as ever.”
“Really?” Ophelia let her go, complaining as she spoke. “I spent ages figuring out the route for my trip, just so I might run into you along the way.” As she said this, her gaze shifted to the wreckage of the carriage on the road. “But as it turns out, it seems my timing couldn’t have been better?”
Before she’d finished speaking, Aelia and Loran exchanged a quick glance but just as quickly looked away.
Meanwhile, Ophelia had already linked arms with Kloe, preparing to head toward her own carriage. Loran tried to slip away, taking a few steps before Kloe’s deliberately lowered voice called out from behind him.
“You’re coming too.”
“No need, Princess, I’ll just go to the carriage behind…”
“I said…” Kloe halted and turned to look at him. “Come here.”
Inside Ophelia’s carriage, it was even more spacious than it looked from the outside. The walls were lined with velvet, and the floor was covered with a thick bearskin rug. After boarding, Loran instinctively found a seat by the window, with Kloe sitting close beside him. Ophelia, meanwhile, settled across from them with a cheerful smile.
Once the door closed, the sounds of wind and snow outside were shut away, leaving only the occasional crackle of coals in the heater.
After brewing a pot of tea for the two of them, Ophelia skillfully steered the conversation. The two girls chatted about childhood games, their parting at the Capital, and even the hunts in the snow-laden forests on the edge of Northern Yanktonshire.
Left on his own, Loran was content with the peace and quiet. He gazed out at the retreating scenery, listening to their conversation.
The details between Kloe and Ophelia had never been mentioned in the main storyline of the game. Loran had always assumed Kloe and Ophelia would have a more antagonistic relationship, but he hadn’t expected their past to be so close.
Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows, secretly studying Ophelia, who sat across from him.
The girl appeared to be the same age as Kloe, with a hint of youthful innocence still lingering in her features. Dressed in a pure white winter dress, her golden hair shone like sunlight, making her stand out all the more.
Suddenly, as if sensing Loran’s gaze, Ophelia turned her head toward him.
“By the way…Kloe, aren’t you going to introduce this gentleman to me?”
She smiled lightly, tilting her head, and then extended her hand to Loran.
“I’m Ophelia Blanche, Kloe’s good friend. Although you’re dressed as a retainer, for Kloe to keep you at her side, you must be someone quite special to her, right?”
Ophelia’s hand was slender and fair. Loran hesitated for a moment before taking it, and as their palms touched, he felt a trace of Divine Attribute Magic from her fingertips—so faint it vanished instantly.
“Loran.” The boy replied simply. “Currently serving as the Princess’s Magic Consultant.”
“Magic Consultant, hmm…” Ophelia nodded thoughtfully, resting her chin on one hand, her eyes darting across Kloe’s composed face. “Speaking of which, Kloe, I remember you used to dislike studying magic.”
“That was in the past.” The girl calmly put down her teacup. “Besides, he’s different.”
Ophelia covered her mouth and laughed softly. “Yes, yes, I understand.” She winked at Kloe as she spoke. “For our Princess Kloe to praise someone herself, he must truly be remarkable.”
Her words made Kloe’s cheeks flush again. Kloe turned her head to the window, pretending to admire the snowy scenery outside.
But as far as Loran was concerned, it would have been even better if she hadn’t secretly stepped on his foot under the table.
The carriage continued on its way. Ophelia soon shifted her focus back to Kloe, recounting recent events in the Capital. The girls’ laughter rang like silver bells inside the carriage.
The distant mountains gradually became less rugged. Loran suddenly wondered, in the previous timeline, was Kloe sitting alone in the carriage at this time, staring dazedly out the window?
Now, though, the two main characters had met early, and the atmosphere was unexpectedly harmonious. Loran closed his eyes, spreading out that square in his mind, watching as the lines on the page diverged.
He didn’t know how long this harmony would last, nor did he know what Ophelia truly thought. But judging from her earlier, probing touch of magic, she certainly wasn’t without caution toward him.
Lost in thought, Loran felt Kloe’s fingertips quietly tug at his sleeve. The boy subtly adjusted his posture so their contact would seem more natural.
By the time the convoy reached the town, dusk was spreading across the sky, tinting the snowy plains with a gentle hue.
For safety reasons—and because the town’s inn simply couldn’t accommodate so many people—the group decided not to disturb the townsfolk. After exchanging a few words with the Town Mayor, they began setting up camp a short distance from the town gates.
Loran jumped down from the carriage, turning to help Kloe and Ophelia down as well. His gaze discreetly swept over the Blanche Family’s convoy, where the knights were methodically unloading the baggage.
He wanted to find a chance to get closer, to see if they would mention anything about Ophelia—even just a word or two.
But just as he was about to move closer, a knight stepped in to block him.
“Mr. Loran.” The leading Knight Commander removed his helmet and smiled politely. “Her Highness instructed us that you are a distinguished guest. Leave this kind of hard work to us sword-bearers.”
Loran could only nod in resignation, watching as the knights skillfully set up the tents. But when he saw those tents—lavish and extravagant, more like a palace than a campsite—rising from the snow, he couldn’t help but gape in surprise.
Turning away, the boy spotted Aelia standing nearby, holding a stack of blankets.
The Chief Maid had, at some point, changed into a dark winter dress. The hem fluttered in the wind, revealing a glimpse of her delicate, stocking-clad ankles.
She stood by the carriage, seemingly troubled over how to fit all the blankets inside. As Loran walked over, Aelia was on tiptoe, trying to stow the blankets on the highest shelf of the compartment.
“Need a hand?”
Aelia turned and, seeing it was him, showed a flicker of surprise in her eyes.
“Aren’t you…”
“Her Highness and the others are whispering secrets, so I came to see if I could help out.”
As he spoke, Loran took the blankets from Aelia, folded them neatly, and tucked them skillfully into the gaps between the luggage.
Not far away, the two girls sat side by side, watching the bustle of the camp. The sunset stretched their shadows long, overlapping in the snow.
“Vivi.” Ophelia’s voice was very soft. “…How long has it been since we last met?”
“I don’t remember.”
Kloe answered quickly. Hugging her knees, she rested her chin on her arms, her gaze settling on the tents being raised in the distance.
“Do you really not remember, or are you just pretending?”
Ophelia turned her head, her eyes glimmering with broken light in the sunset.
Kloe didn’t answer. She simply lowered her gaze to her shoes. The fine boots were dusted with snow. She absently kicked at the ground, sending flakes falling away.
“Vivi, I won’t let something like that happen again. I won’t let you…be cast out of Walgarde like that.”
“That’s all in the past now.”
Kloe spoke calmly.
“It’s because it’s in the past that it’s all the more unforgivable.” Ophelia lifted her gaze, watching the sun sink in the distance. “I will make it happen. I’ll become one of the best at Alteras Academy, so no one will ever bully you again.”
Watching Ophelia’s profile, Kloe paused for a moment.
The setting sun gave her golden hair a gentle, warm glow. Her silhouette was just as Kloe remembered it…yet something felt different.
A sudden restlessness rose in Kloe’s heart. She instinctively searched for Loran’s figure among the crowd.
It was easy to spot him, even in the throng. At this very moment, he was bent over, helping Aelia organize supplies, his profile flickering in the firelight.
Ophelia missed none of Kloe’s movements.
Her face still wore a faint smile, and her amber eyes shone as before. But deep in that glow, something quietly sank.
—I will make it happen.
—I’ll never let you be hurt again.
—Always…always the best of friends.
Meanwhile, on the other side of camp, Loran suddenly paused.
Just now, he’d felt some movement from the Small Iron Book in his mind.
Without drawing attention, he set aside his task and, taking advantage of a break, opened it in his consciousness.
The Small Iron Book still rested quietly there. But when he turned the pages, he saw at once that the golden line on the paper had grown a little longer.
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