Epilogue: To You, My Precious Person
One day, roughly two months after Rio and the others arrived at the spirit folk village... In the Kingdom of Beltrum — the capital of Beltrant — a young woman who looked to be in her mid teens was in the garden of the royal castle. Her name was Celia Claire: she was a count’s daughter and the youngest person to graduate from the renowned Royal Academy of Beltrum.
Celia’s long silver hair swayed in the wind as she sadly gazed at a single letter in her hands. The name Haruto was printed as the sender.
Celia knew the name; she had received a letter from a certain boy using that name once before, so she was convinced that that same boy was the one who wrote this letter, too.
The contents of the letter were straightforward and written in a familiar handwriting, stating that he would be late, but would definitely come to see her again.
“Hello, Celia... So you were here this whole time.” A man in his mid-thirties appeared, putting on airs as he spoke to Celia. The man wore elegant knight’s clothing with several medals pinned to his chest.
Celia hid the letter immediately and addressed the man — Charles Arbor — stiffly. “Sir Charles...”
Charles grinned at Celia smugly. “There’s no need to be so formal. We’ll be wedded next week, no? How about you call me ‘darling’ instead?”
“No, umm... That’s a little... It’s still a little embarrassing for me...” Celia ducked her head down and shyly bit her lip.
Charles laughed. “I do like your sense of chastity; it is lovely indeed. You even refuse to hold the hand of your fiance. I look forward to seeing how you change after our wedding.”
Goosebumps ran along Celia’s skin as she kept her head down, feigning embarrassment.
“Sir Charles, do you have a moment?” A knight suddenly appeared out of nowhere, calling for Charles.
“My, my... Just when I came to greet my adorable fiancee, work comes calling. In these times where the kingdom is in disarray, the busy duties of a large noble family never seem to cease,” Charles said, giving an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders as he expressed his disappointment.
“Everyone feels anxious without you around, Sir Charles. Please pay me no concern and go to them.” Celia gave an empty smile, trying to encourage Charles to go.
“Yes, I shall do that. I’ll come to visit you again soon, my dear.” Charles nodded in satisfaction, then turned on his heel and walked away with his subordinate.
Celia watched his retreating back and let out a deep sigh, then took the letter she had hidden away earlier back out and clutched it to her chest.
“Rio...” she whispered yearningly, on the verge of tears.
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