Morning sunlight poured over the capital in a soft, warm wash, catching on rooftops and the bright awnings of the market. Ren drifted with the crowd, hands folded behind his back, letting the bustle of traders and carts steady him. He had no errands today — only a quiet wish to walk and listen to the city wake.
His peaceful stroll abruptly ended when his stomach let out a deep, dramatic growl.
"…Really?" Ren muttered under his breath.
Another growl followed—louder.
He sighed and scanned the nearest stalls until his eyes landed on a small fruit cart, its baskets overflowing with apples so bright they looked freshly polished. That was enough for him. Ren stepped toward the stall.
"Morning," he greeted the vendor as he reached for an apple.
Before he could hand over the coin, he felt a tiny tug at his pants.
Ren blinked. "…Huh?"
A little girl—no older than eight—stood beside him, clinging to his trouser leg with both hands. She wore an elegant velvet frock trimmed with silver thread, her shoes gleaming like something a royal tailor would fuss over for hours. Her hair, soft gold in color, fell in curls down her shoulders. And her eyes—clear, bright blue—were watery, as though she'd just stopped crying.
Ren's eyebrows rose.
She looks… noble. Definitely noble.
But she didn't look like a child of Veloria's nobility. Her clothing style was foreign.
He crouched down slowly, lowering himself to her eye level.
"Hey there…" he said gently. "What's your name? And where are your parents?"
She didn't answer. Her small fingers only tightened on his clothing. Her head stayed bowed, curls covering her expression.
Ren hesitated, then lifted a hand and rested it on her head. His touch was soft, like patting a frightened kitten.
"Hey, hey… look at me," he said with a warm smile. "I'm not scary, I promise."
Her shoulders trembled once. Then her eyes lifted—hesitant, searching—and she finally met his gaze.
"…I-I…" Her voice was tiny. "I was with Uncle Charles… a-and I saw a butterfly… so I followed it… and then—then—Uncle Charles disappeared!"
"Ah," Ren nodded, expression softening. "So you got separated."
She nodded with a little "mm," her cheeks puffing up with embarrassment.
"Do you know what part of the market you were in?" Ren asked.
"The… the jewelry market," she whispered.
"Oh, that's on the far side." Ren stood again and held out a hand. "Then let's go find Uncle Charles, yeah?"
She slipped her tiny hand into his.
But before they took more than three steps, a sound echoed through the air.
GRRROOOOWLLLL.
Ren stiffened. "…That wasn't me," he said slowly.
The girl's face flushed pink as she clutched her stomach.
"You're hungry?" Ren asked.
She nodded, embarrassed.
There happened to be a small ramen cart close by, steam curling from its window. The aroma tugged at Ren's own stomach, too, but he ordered one bowl for her and none for himself.
"Really? You're not going to eat?" she asked, astonished.
Ren scratched the back of his neck. "Ah—no, no, I'm fine. You go ahead."
"But why?" she asked, innocent curiosity shining through.
Ren forced a small smile. "I'm just not hungry right now."
The girl dug in with the gusto of a child who'd been rescued from a morning of worry. Noodles slurped, broth gone with happy sighs. Ren watched, a small smile tugging at him.
When she finished, she looked up between spoonfuls and asked, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "Do you have a girlfriend?"
The question hit him like a splash of cold water. He choked on a laugh. "W-where'd you learn to ask that?"
"You're nice," she said plainly. "Nice people usually have girlfriends."
Ren's face heated. "I—uh—no, I don't."
"Oh." She nodded thoughtfully. "Then I think you will get a girlfriend someday. Because you're really kind."
His face burned hotter. "…Th—thanks?"
They walked on. The jewelry market was a tangle of gold and ribbon and loud sellers. Suddenly her small voice squealed.
"Uncle Charles!"
An elderly man in a black suit stood frozen among the crowd, eyes wide as if he'd seen a ghost.
"Princess Riele!" he cried out.
Princess?
The old man ran toward them, tears welling in his eyes. Riele let go of Ren's hand and rushed forward, arms outstretched.
When they reached each other, Charles scooped her up, hugging her tightly.
"I—I lost sight of you—!" his voice cracked. "Forgive me, Princess… I am sorry… I am so deeply, terribly sorry…"
Riele's small hands patted his shoulder with surprising gentleness. "It's okay, Uncle Charles. I found someone nice!"
The old man exhaled shakily, then looked at Ren. An expression of pure gratitude took over his face.
He placed Riele down, then bowed so deeply his back made a perfect right angle.
"Young man… the Kingdom of Elindor owes you a debt. Please—anything you want. Wealth, favors, travel expenses—just name it."
Ren panicked slightly.
"Ah—no, no, you don't need to offer anything! I'm just glad she's safe."
Charles straightened with a watery smile.
"You are generous beyond your years, young man."
Ren held up both palms slightly, as if trying to push the praise away. "R-Really, it's nothing…"
Then Charles glanced at the sky and nearly jumped. "Oh heavens, it's late! Princess, we must return at once."
Before leaving, Riele slipped her tiny hand into Ren's and, with the confidence of a child sure of small debts repaid, whispered, "Thank you, Mister."
Ren waved as they hurried away. He watched until they disappeared into the market's maze, feeling oddly light.
"I should probably head back too…" ren sighed softly to himself.
---
Back home, it was quiet when he pushed the door open. He hadn't even closed it yet when a voice filled the hall.
"You're back."
Vaspera stood from the couch as Ren stepped inside. She looked up at him, posture precise, expression carefully neutral.
"I was waiting for you," she said plainly.
"W-Waiting… for me?" Ren asked nervously. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No." She shook her head once. "I needed to tell you something."
"We're leaving for Elindor Kingdom."
Ren blinked twice. "E- Elindor? Why…?"
"For the tournament."
"…Tournament?"
---