The conqueror from a dyi.., p.14
The Conqueror from a Dying Kingdom, page 14
Though if the soldier I’d talked to the day before was anything to go by, the academy wasn’t all that bad.
We heard a knock at the door.
“May I enter?” a voice on the other side asked.
“Please come in,” Rook said.
A maid entered the room.
“Pardon me, but I’d like to discuss your dinner arrangements.”
“I’ll have whatever you’ve got. Just bring it here.”
Rook wasn’t fussy when it came to food. Whenever Suzuya gave him a few options for dinnertime, his response was always “I’ll have whatever.” She’d always say, “If you don’t give me a proper answer, that just makes it harder.” They never changed.
Will I ever get to hear them talk like that again now that Rook’s the head of family?
“Lady Satsuki is offering you an invitation to dine with her,” the maid said.
Initially, Rook gave no response—he merely looked away, displeasure evident on his face. I’ve had a long day. I just wanna eat a pizza and enjoy a drink with a little dried squid, I imagined him thinking.
“Fine, I’ll accept. Let me know when it’s ready,” he eventually said.
“Preparations have already been made. Please follow me.”
She’s already set for us?
We followed after the maid, and she led us to what looked like the head’s personal quarters.
Of all the rooms in this manor, this had to be the most modest I’d seen so far. There were none of the extravagant furnishings, gilded window frames, or elaborate papered walls that flaunted the family’s power elsewhere. But even this commonplace, simple furniture had all been carefully made, and everything shone beautifully with the luster of varnish. The mortar had been applied evenly to the walls, and there wasn’t a single stain in sight. The room managed to be extravagant without actually feeling that way.
Satsuki and Sham were already seated at the large table. It looked big enough to accommodate six people, but there were currently four green place mats laid out.
“Please sit wherever you’d like,” Satsuki said to us.
We did just that, though I guessed that my rightful place was opposite Sham.
✧✧✧
“I owe you my gratitude for saving us from a rather dangerous situation.” Satsuki smiled as she thanked us in a formal tone.
“Oh, that was nothing.” Rook wasn’t the least bit boastful.
You could stand to brag a little. Rakunu could’ve easily killed everyone in that room.
“Are you quite sure you hate combat? It was all eighteen years ago now.”
Eighteen years?
Rook’s clean-shaven face made him look like he was in his twenties, but he was actually thirty-eight. Simply subtracting eighteen without worrying about when his birthday was exactly would’ve put him at twenty back then.
“Yes, I hate it. That’s why I chose to take on debt and create the ranch so I could start a new life. But now...”
As I’d thought, this wasn’t an easy choice for Rook.
He wasn’t the type to enthusiastically embrace the challenge and declare, “I’m ready to do what’s needed of me.” He wasn’t overcome with despair, but he certainly didn’t like what was happening.
“I understand. Do you still intend to send Yuri to the Knight Academy?”
“Yes. But if he decides he doesn’t like it, I won’t stop him from quitting.”
He’s mentioned entering me into the Knight Academy in the past too. Looks like it’s not up to me in any case.
“I don’t want to force anyone into anything. If Yuri truly wishes to quit, I wouldn’t object. But I don’t expect that’ll happen,” Satsuki added as her gaze fell on me.
I’m not so sure...
“I wasn’t lying when I said you can continue to manage your ranch,” Satsuki told Rook.
“But wouldn’t you be left to manage the head household?” Rook asked her. “I can’t make you do that.”
He sounded genuinely concerned. I suspected that leaving a widow to conduct all of the family business wasn’t completely unheard of, but it would be frowned upon.
“It won’t be a problem. I can work behind the scenes, and there are plenty of old men here with nothing but spare time.”
Apparently, she planned to employ the retired old folk.
“But I’m sure there’ll be those who’ll try to steal from the family if I’m left in charge. When it happens, I’ll let you know discreetly, and then I’ll count on you to write them a little letter,” she said with a smile.
I guess she means that kind of letter that says, “Your misdeeds have come to light. Commit seppuku to restore your honor.”
“I can certainly do that much...” Unsurprisingly, Rook didn’t sound enthusiastic.
“Oh, here comes the food.”
Our meal was carried in.
There sure is a lot of variety.
There was cheese wrapped in thinly sliced smoked salmon; rolled omelets packed with some unknown meat; fruit wrapped in cured ham; and various other sorts of bite-size dishes all on one plate.
Must be the appetizer. As much as I enjoy Suzuya’s cooking, this is nice once in a while.
“Thank you for sharing your food with us,” I said politely.
“Go ahead and start eating,” Satsuki urged us.
I tried one dish after another and found them all delicious. Did that chef with the oven mitts make all this? He’s not bad.
I looked at Rook and saw him drink the aperitif put before him and eat the appetizers like they were bar snacks. He looked happy, though he was probably more pleased by the good alcohol than any of the food. It smelled stronger and sweeter than the usual whiskey he drank back home—it might’ve been brandy.
I looked over at Satsuki.
“Make sure you eat up,” she said with a smile.
She acts like she’s my aunt. Oh, wait—she is my aunt.
“Thank you, Satsuki. I’ll make sure I get my fill.” I still couldn’t help but feel a little awkward.
There were six courses brought out in total, starting with the appetizers and ending with dessert. My stomach was full by the time we’d finished eating.
Only then did Sham, who’d been looking strangely nervous on the other side of the table, speak for the first time that day. “U-Um! Will you look at the stars with me?!”
Stars? I glanced outside and saw the sky through the branches of the trees. It was a beautifully clear and starry night—perfect for stargazing.
I looked back at Rook, and for some reason, he was grinning at me.
He must imagine Sham’s some precocious kid asking the boy of her dreams out on a romantic date, but I doubt that’s the case. She probably studies the stars like a professional astronomer.
“Will you? Or are you not interested?” Sham asked.
Although a lot had happened that day, she seemed entirely detached from it all. Satsuki probably hadn’t told her anything. It was a strange arrangement; despite being deeply involved in all the problems we’d faced, she was completely out of the loop. Meanwhile, guests like Rook and I knew everything.
“Would you be all right with that, dad?”
I was a little curious about the stars. Most of what I knew came from a few introductory books on astronomy—mostly Japanese pop-science books—but even a novice could learn a lot about a planet from its stars.
“Yes, you go with her. I’m sure I don’t need to say it, but don’t leave the manor.”
“I won’t. See you later.”
Sham and I both left the room.
“This way. There’s a good viewing area.”
I grabbed a thick outdoor jacket and followed Sham. She happily led the way, and we ascended two flights of stairs and a ladder to reach the roof.
The manor’s roof formed a tall slope, but there was one area—three and a half square meters in size and designed like a watchtower—that seemed to sit at the manor’s peak. That was where we emerged.
From here we could see the city of Kalakumo in its entirety. There was nothing above us. It initially seemed odd to me that a watchtower would have no shelter from the rain, but I realized it was probably out of consideration for kingeagles. A roof above our heads would’ve created a blind spot.
Fortunately, the lack of a roof also made it a perfect place for stargazing.
There was a hole in the floor that we’d just climbed out of. There was some sort of fabric—something that looked like the hide of a marine mammal—secured to the edges of the hatch’s cover by rivets. I couldn’t be sure, but I assumed it worked like a waterproof seal. There was also a railing of sorts to prevent us from falling.
“What do you think? This is my secret place.”
I doubted it was a secret, but her proud, yet bashful smile looked cute on a girl her age.
“I have to warn you, I don’t know much about stars,” I told her honestly.
“Then I’ll teach you,” she replied.
Sham was supposedly a year younger than me. I never thought I’d see the day where I’d be schooled by a girl this young.
“There’s a mat and blanket here so we can lie down.”
Sham quickly laid the mat down and then put the blanket over it. She’d retrieved them from a supply box that must have been for the sentries out on duty. I lay down like she said and looked up at the sky.
Without a roof, there was nothing to block my view of the heavens. I realized that this was the first time since my reincarnation that I’d simply lain back and looked up at the night sky like this. Neither Rook nor Suzuya had ever shown any interest in the stars, and I lived on an orderly schedule with a child’s bedtime. That meant I turned in early each night.
Astronomy was one of the oldest academic fields, and anyone with a healthy pair of eyes had all they needed to begin studying if they had the stamina for it. A world without artificial satellites or automated observatories meant staying up late each night to view the stars.
“The sky looks great. It’s completely clear,” I remarked.
“Isn’t it?”
The night sky was a moving sight. My young pupils hadn’t succumbed to any effects of aging yet, so the sky was especially stunning to me. This was how beautiful the stars could look in a world that hadn’t yet encountered the concept of light pollution. That, and the low humidity of winter probably helped too.
Even on the clearest of nights, the stars I’d seen while living in Japan never looked so impressive. I’d learned about the Milky Way at school when I was a little kid, but I never really understood it. No matter how closely I’d looked at the sky, I’d never seen that particular cluster of bright stars.
But now it made sense to me—there clearly was a dense group of stars forming a belt across the sky. Those stars, arranged like a great river stopped in time, made me understand why ancient people had once described it as a river of milk. It was breathtaking.
The cluster of stars I was looking at belonged to the same galaxy as this planet, and each was one of our galactic companions. The galaxy was probably disc shaped, but it looked as though the stars were packed into a straight line since we were viewing it side-on.
Hold up—if we have our own Milky Way here, then this is part of a whole galaxy. Wow, a whole galaxy. Well, the people here do look human, so I guess I didn’t get sent to a universe that’s completely different from my last one.
“Hey, are you listening? That star’s name is Milra,” Sham said.
“Milra?”
“The third body in orbit around our planet is known as Milra.”
Oh, okay.
There were too many stars to know which one she was pointing at. I hadn’t the slightest idea which of them was the Milra she mentioned.
If it was in orbit around us, it should’ve been exceptionally large just like the moon, but all I could see were your standard twinkling stars.
“This star and five others are known as special stars. They don’t move the same way as the others do.”
So, she was essentially telling me that there were six satellites in orbit around our planet. That wasn’t impossible, but it was more likely that Sham understood space in terms of geocentrism—the belief everything revolved around our planet.
Nowadays on Earth, the layman’s reaction to the geocentric model tended to be along the lines of, “How could anyone have misunderstood the universe that badly? Were they stupid?” However, I’d once read a pop-science book on astronomy that showed how the geocentric model adequately explained many of the movements of celestial bodies. In fact, for someone lacking an understanding of elliptical orbits, the geocentric model often provided more logical explanations than the current heliocentric theory. Disproving geocentrism was surprisingly difficult.
“How do all the other stars move?” I asked her.
“They orbit around another star known as the stationary star.”
Ah, that must be a pole star.
“Do you know any constellations?” I asked.
“I do, but...”
I glanced at Sham beside me and noticed a bored expression.
“There are only five stars that are particularly important in astronomy. The others don’t really change.”
It looked like Sham had very little interest in constellations.
It was easy to imagine how stars in space would get a little boring without a big observatory telescope. Once in a while a supernova would cause new stars to appear and disappear, but otherwise they’d endlessly spin around and around at a constant speed, with a pole star always at the center. There couldn’t be a more boring topic of research.
Inferior and superior planets, on the other hand, moved in much more interesting ways than the stars.
“You won’t teach me?”
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to. Now, listen carefully...”
My humble approach made Sham feel proud of herself.
She’s easy to please. And that prideful expression of hers is kinda cute.
“First, the constellations can be divided into summer and winter constellations. What we see now are winter constellations.”
We’re starting with the basics? She’s like an elementary school teacher.
“And well, um, that’s the Bull.”
“I see...”
Unsurprisingly, I had no idea which one she meant. Simply pointing up at the sky with a finger was no way to indicate a specific constellation.
“That’s the Lyre, and that’s the Cat.”
“Wow...”
I wasn’t learning anything, but Sham was surprisingly cute, so I was okay with it.
I feel like I’ve turned into her dad. The thought made me smile. I’d always wanted a daughter like her. Save for one bad experience with a woman, there hadn’t been any others in my previous life, and that unpleasant experience had left me with something close to gynophobia.
“And that’s the Ladle.”
Okay...
I didn’t know what the Bull, Cat, or Lyre constellations were supposed to look like, but I could recognize a ladle shape. There were seven stars forming the ladle’s shape, and the outline stood out clearly because they shone brighter than the others around them.
It looks just like the Big Dipper. Uh...
I blinked several times, doubting my own eyes, and took another look at the Ladle constellation.
Huh?!
It looked exactly like the Big Dipper. No, it was the Big Dipper. For a moment, my mind went blank.
I shifted my gaze in search of other familiar constellations. I didn’t know them well at all—I couldn’t tell you what Cygnus looked like—but I recalled a few famous ones made of bright stars.
I soon found another. I could see so many other stars that it was difficult to make out, but I was certain that I’d found Orion.
Huh... But that shouldn’t exist. Can the stars look the same from another planet? I knew the answer without having to think. Of course not. It’s impossible.
Constellations were made up of the light of stars and galaxies in space, or the residual light of a supernova as it reached the Earth’s surface. When viewed from another position or distance, the stars that made up the constellations wouldn’t remain clustered together in the same way. The three-dimensional nature of space meant that they’d become scattered further apart as you moved closer.
Calling it a space fingerprint or planetary DNA would be an odd analogy, but from other planets, the constellations could never look the same as they did on Earth. And if this was an entirely new universe, then absolutely everything should’ve been different.
There had to be some kind of explanation. I came up with several theories and tried to make them work. Once I’d eliminated the absurd, though, I was left with just one logical explanation: I was in roughly the same location as the Earth and in the same galaxy.
✧✧✧
“...and that’s the Monkey, and that’s the Chair.”
I came to my senses and realized that Sham was still talking.
“And...that’s all of them. Have you memorized them?” Sham asked.
You expect me to remember all that? Anyhow, I’ve got bigger things on my mind.
“Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”
“Huh? Don’t tell me you fell asleep?” She looked a little shocked.
Now I feel bad.
“No, it’s just that now’s not the time...”
“It isn’t? But you’re the one who asked to hear about them in the first place...”
She’s got me there. She looks so disappointed.
“I’m really sorry, but can we end our stargazing for today?”
“Astronomy must be boring. It’s a shame because it’s interesting to me...” she said, growing unhappier by the second.
Ah, jeez. What do I say to her now?
“No, I like it too—it’s just that I think I’m about to make a big discovery.”
“I understand. You can explain your great discovery to me later.”
