In the carriage on the way home, Licia rested her chin in her hand, staring blankly out the window.
A little over ten days had passed since they departed the Ashton village, and the city of Clausel was already within sight. Even after they passed through the city gates, she continued to gaze at the passing scenery with a distant look in her eyes.
It's so frustrating, she thought.
That single thought consumed her. After two sparring matches with Ren Ashton, Licia hadn't managed to hold her own for even a single moment. The memory weighed heavily on her mind, tormenting her with a feeling of inadequacy she had never experienced before.
I want to win next time.
The desire was obsessive, yet she couldn't even fathom what victory would look like. After all, she truly hadn't been able to do anything against him. If anything, Ren had seemed to be holding back. Even against her Holy Magic, he’d had the leisure to pull his punches.
"Ugh, honestly!"
She slammed both hands against the window frame. Weiss, riding alongside the carriage, steered his horse closer.
"Thinking about that boy again, my lady?"
"Yes! I can't stop—not for a second! I can't get that pathetic display out of my head! He’s so strong it doesn't even make sense!"
The way the usually mature Licia acted her age was rather endearing. Weiss watched her through the window and smiled, careful not to let her see. He knew she wasn't the type to give up.
"Spar with me until sunset today," she said, as if to prove him right. "If I don't train immediately, I feel like I'll go crazy."
"As you wish. I shall accompany you."
Weiss usually had too many duties to spar with her, so his immediate agreement brightened her mood. "I have to work hard," she whispered to herself.
But the moment she fell silent, the image of her duel with Ren surged back—though this time, it was different. She remembered their first match.
'——I win.'
Ren’s face as he declared his victory, close enough for her to feel his breath on her skin, flashed before her eyes. She remembered—no, the memory forced its way into her mind.
The distance between them had been far too close. His eyes had looked straight into hers. For a boy, his features were soft and neutral, yet they were backed by a power that defied his appearance. Time and again, he had effortlessly parried her, and she had almost been captivated by the beauty of his movements. While she believed her technical skill was superior, his raw strength and ferocity had been breathtaking.
The fact that he was just a boy her age made the shock all the more profound.
'——I win.'
His words echoed in her mind once more. Recalling the way their bodies had been positioned at that moment made her cheeks flush with heat. Licia shook her head violently and slapped her cheeks.
"Wh-What am I thinking...! Next time, I’m the one who’s going to say those words!"
Winter eventually arrived.
Even after returning from Ren's village, Licia headed straight to the training grounds the moment she got home. Her father, Lezard, watched with a wry smile.
"She’s certainly spirited, despite the cold..."
Weiss, having just returned to the manor himself, approached the Baron.
"I have the report for you, sir."
"I'll read it later. Tell me, how was it this time? Licia seems to have improved significantly over these past few months. Was she able to close the gap at all?"
Weiss hesitated, a strained smile on his face. He shook his head.
"The boy has grown even more than the Young Lady."
"How can that be? Even setting aside my fatherly bias, I believed Licia had no equals in her age group."
"I agree, sir. But that boy is simply further beyond her still."
Lezard stood up and walked to the window, his brow furrowed. Outside, Licia was training diligently against one of the knights.
"I plan to join her shortly," Weiss added.
"I see," Lezard nodded.
He recognized this intensity. When she had first met Ren and returned home, she had been just as obsessed with her training. It seemed the gap in power had only widened. Looking at her now, he could easily imagine her defeat.
"I’d like to meet him myself someday."
He truly wanted to speak with the boy who surpassed Saint Licia Clausel’s blade. While their different social standings made a meeting difficult, he looked forward to the possibility. He owed the boy a debt of gratitude for his influence on Licia.
Lezard watched his daughter persevere through the snow, praying her efforts would one day be rewarded.
The training session lasted well into the night. Afterward, a satisfied Licia took a bath and sat while an attendant dried her hair.
"I lost miserably again. It's almost funny how badly."
"You seem quite happy for someone who lost, my lady."
"Really? I feel like I'm seething with frustration at my own incompetence."
"You may think so, but please, look in the mirror."
Licia looked. Her expression was relaxed, her lips curved into a soft smile. There wasn't a trace of the frustration she claimed to feel. Anyone would have said she was in a wonderful mood.
"You might not realize it, but whenever you talk about Master Ren, you look happier than I've ever seen you."
"It's... it's not like that."
Licia turned away with a huff. The attendant giggled, finding the young lady's reaction endearing as she continued to dry her hair.
"But you enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"
"Well—yes. Sparring with him is meaningful. I learn so much every time."
"I've heard he’s remarkably strong. It's only natural you’d be interested in someone like that."
"I told you, it's not like that!" Licia lowered her voice. "Besides... it's not like I keep sparring with him just because he's strong."
She murmured the words bashfully. The attendant's heart fluttered at the sight; she couldn't resist digging a little deeper.
"Then why did you keep asking for more matches?"
"I find his perspective... refreshing. Though that sounds a bit arrogant. He’s more of a gentleman than any of the noble sons who've tried to court me, and I respect his character."
"Oh my. Is that so?"
Licia caught the attendant's playful smile in the mirror and pouted. "What?"
"'What?' nothing, my lady. I'm certainly not trying to tease you."
"Liar! You're smiling way more than usual!"
The attendant's eyes crinkled. Licia's hair, now mostly dry, was as soft and lustrous as fine silk.
"Be honest! You're making fun of me, aren't you?"
"No, no. I truly wouldn't dream of it."
"Then why can't you stop smiling?"
Licia’s face was flushed all the way to her neck. It wasn't the warmth of the bath; it was an embarrassment she couldn't hide.
"If I may be so bold then," the attendant said, running a comb through the girl's hair. "Is it really not... that kind of thing?"
That kind of thing.
Licia stared blankly for several seconds, pondering the weight of those words while the attendant combed her hair. But the moment the meaning clicked—
"I—! I told you, it's not like that!"
Her face and neck turned a vivid crimson as she blurted out her feeble denial.