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The Knight Serves the Little Princess – Part 01

The brisk winter wind swept through the French-style garden.

Evening in St. Marguerite Academy.

On this short winter day, the bright sun quickly dimmed, casting a pale white hue over the snowy world. In the vast garden, water dripped rhythmically down frozen fountains, and the gazebos were buried in snow, transformed into pure-white mounds.

Faint cheers of the students could be heard from the large U-shaped school building, but as one navigated the winding, snow-covered path towards the corner of the garden, it felt like being in a distant world, the voices sounding like mere whispers from the ancient past.

Kazuya Kujou walked along the snowy path, away from the bustling noise of the annual human chess tournament. Clad in a silver knight-like costume, he marched with measured steps with his back straight. A helmet concealed his soft black hair.

His jet-black eyes flickered as he gazed up at the majestic St. Marguerite Grand Library.

A massive stone tower, rumored to be the largest hall of knowledge in all of Europe, it housed medieval scrolls, rare knowledge from all around the world, and books gathered through the power of past kings. Mystical creatures known as books gathered here of their own will to create an enclave.

Excitement filled Kazuya’s eyes as he beheld the colossal structure.

“Victorique must be in the library at this hour,” he mumbled. “She’s nowhere to be found in the academy, not even in the house deep within the maze. Also…”

He glanced down at his feet and smiled. The path narrowed as it approached the grand library, and due to minimal effort on shoveling, tall heaps of snow had formed on both sides. Faint footprints of a small girl marked the way. They were barely visible, requiring careful attention, but they were enough for Kazuya.

Like a detective, he dropped his armored knee on the ground and examined the footprints. They seemed to belong to a pair of pointed children’s boots. The three roses in full bloom engraved on the soles left a trail of rose-shaped imprints on the snow.

“Yup. That’s Victorique, all right.”

Kazuya stood up and nodded in satisfaction. Then, he casually continued his march.

Cold snow drifted from the skies. The sunlight had grown faint, gently illuminating the fading world.

---

“Hey, Victorique!”

St. Marguerite Grand Library. A deathly silent stone tower.

Kazuya swung open the riveted leather doors, calling out his friend’s name as if entering their lodging house.

“Hey!”

There was no response. Nothing new.

Kazuya nodded and gazed up at the high ceiling.

The air held an icy chill, carrying the mixed scent of dust, mold, and intellect. The walls were filled with obscure books collected from various eras and places, reaching from floor to ceiling, where majestic religious paintings glimmered. Narrow wooden staircases perilously connected the bookshelves.

Dressed in his armor, Kazuya began ascending the stairs with loud footsteps. Up and up and up.

Still going up…

Several minutes later.

“Haahh… haahh… Huh?”

Upon reaching the top of the wooden stairs, Kazuya looked around, breathing heavily.

There, spread out before him, was a luminous conservatory, a world completely detached from the snowy landscape outside. Fern leaves flourished in abundance, surrounded by rare tropical flowers, unfamiliar fruits in bright hues of red, pink, and orange, and towering trees.

The assortment of books fanned out on the floor suggested that someone had been engrossed in them just moments ago. Macarons, chocolate bonbons, animal-shaped lollipops, and flower-shaped cookies lay scattered nearby.

A pipe stand in the shape of a glass slipper held a white ceramic pipe, emitting a thin wisp of smoke, as though it was just recently used.

Kazuya glanced around, growing increasingly anxious. Memories of that morning when Victorique vanished, leaving behind traces of her presence, resurfaced. One summer morning, she was abruptly abducted from the lovely dollhouse nestled deep within the flowerbed maze and sent to Beelzebub’s Skull in Lithuania, leaving everything behind. In response, Kazuya had swiftly boarded a train to take her back.

All on his own…

“Ah!”

Lost in his thoughts, Kazuya raised his head at a faint noise. From the unexplored depths of the conservatory, he sensed a presence emerging. He listened closely.

Then, an impish smile appeared on his lips, his eyes glinting within the visor. He stood upright in the corner, still as a knight statue.

Tropical birds trilled in the dreamlike space. From within the conservatory’s lush verdure, Victorique slowly appeared. Her scarlet satin gown billowed around her like a blooming tropical flower, defying the constraints of seasons. Her golden hair, reminiscent of an ancient creature’s tail, followed in slow, mysterious motion, swaying from side to side as if it possessed its own will.

Resting upon her golden head was a crimson crown of roses. Perhaps due to traversing the narrow, snowy path, her shoes had been swapped for sparkling, intricately embroidered boots. Her almond-shaped eyes, a deep shade of green, bore a profound and slightly sardonic expression, hinting at an inherent knowledge of all the world’s secrets.

Anyone who beheld her beauty would first be awestruck, then overcome by a sense of trepidation at her small stature. As they peered into her eyes, a chill would crawl down their spine. Hesitant to speak to her, they would remain silent, retreating in fear, yet unable to tear their eyes away from this captivating amalgamation of beauty, wisdom, and wickedness embodied in the form of a young girl.

But now, there was no one to witness her magical figure. Victorique de Blois was like a magnificent flower blooming deep within a forest, withering away in obscurity. She tottered along leisurely, then came to a halt.

In her hand was a big fruit of an odd shape that she had plucked from the garden. For a moment, she paused and twitched her adorable little nose. She seemed to catch a glimpse of something in her peripheral vision. Or perhaps not.

Then, she returned to her books and plopped down. She placed the fruit beside her on the floor. Propping herself against a stack of books, she gazed up at the ceiling, took the pipe in her hand, and took a puff.

She seemed to be staring at the grand religious painting on the ceiling.

The suit of armor behind her began to move silently. It took a slow step forward with its right foot, followed by the left, and then again with the right.

Slowly, inch by inch, not making a sound. A breeze blew past.

She threatens me every day, saying she’ll die of boredom. Gotta pay her back sometimes, Kazuya thought as he carefully advanced. I’m gonna startle her. This should also get rid of her boredom, if only for a moment. And besides…

Victorique’s gaze was fixed on the painting, her mind lost in contemplation. Her long, golden hair shifted despite the absence of wind, as if responding to the stirrings of her inner thoughts.

Why do I go to such lengths for her?

“Kujou.”

I wonder… Wait, what?

Startled, Kazuya stopped in his tracks.

Victorique’s glossy, cherry lips were parted. Leaning against the stack of books, she seemed like an abandoned doll with her legs thrown out, a posture she frequently assumed in the conservatory. Her long, golden hair alone bounced merrily.

“V-Victorique? You scared me!”

“That’s my line. What in the world are you doing? Are you bored, by any chance?”

“Not at all.” Kazuya resumed walking, normally this time, his armor clattering with each step.

Victorique cast a cold glance in his direction. “What are you supposed to be? You look creepy.”

“Now, look here! I just finished my turn in the human chess tournament, so I came to check on you. I thought you might be bored.”

“I’m not.”

“I wanted to startle you by acting like a ghost in armor. I hope it would alleviate a bit of your boredom… Wait, what did you just say?”

“I’m not bored,” she answered in a raspy tone, then sniffed audibly. “Stop making me repeat myself. Answering takes too much effort.”

“You’re such a lazybones, you know that? Ouch! Stop kicking me! Especially while wearing boots.”

Kazuya approached Victorique, armor clanking, and gathered the scattered confections, arranging them neatly by type.

“Anyway, what do you mean you’re not bored? And today, of all days? The Victorique de Blois I know would immediately drown in a sea of tedium and weariness even after solving some gruesome murder. What are you doing?!”

Victorique flailed her feet around, scattering the sweets that Kazuya had painstakingly gathered.

Kazuya let out a disheartened sigh. “What is wrong with you?”

“Hmph.”

“Someone’s grouchy. So, that means you’re not bored today. At least not right now. But you’re in a foul mood. Something’s making your heart stir, but not in a good way. How’s my deduction?”

“Pumpkin-head!”

“Hit the nail right on the head, huh? You look pleased.”

Had he detected the subtle change in her emotionless visage? While Victorique continued to silently smoke her pipe, Kazuya nodded with satisfaction.

Victorique snorted. Her eyes weren’t on Kazuya, but rather on the religious painting above. Her eyes glistened, reflecting the radiant light in the conservatory.