So it made sense he couldn’t freely dream. It was a restrictive environment where he couldn’t even openly express his likes and dislikes.

“I haven’t really thought about it, other than making the Fenton family grow as its successor….”

As expected.

“But if given the opportunity, I’d like to wield a sword.”

“A sword? You mean swordsmanship?”

Roger inquired, and Yurik nodded.

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t your parents object?”

“They don’t discourage it. But if I insist on becoming a knight, they’ll object. There’s also the issue that I’m the only successor, and knights must go to battle if war breaks out.”

Yurik looked troubled.

“If you want to become a knight, you’d probably want to join the Violet Knights, right?”

At Roger’s question, Yurik silently nodded. If asked to name the most honorable and famous knight order, everyone would say the Violet Knights.

“Now that we’ve talked about me, Lise, tell us about yourself.”

“Lise? She’s probably destined to be a chess champion.”

Yurik and Roger’s eyes turned towards me.

I’ve always had plenty of dreams. When Isabell took my book, I hoped she would return it the next day. When my father tried to expel me from the Marsen family, I wished he would regret it and apologize the next day.

That’s how I had always dreamed of overcoming the crises before me.

“……I’ve never really thought about it.”

But my future was different.

“Didn’t you want to become a chess champion?”

Roger looked surprised at my unexpected answer.

“That’s a goal. A very achievable goal I must reach.”

“And have you ever imagined what you’ll be like ten years from now?”

When Yurik asked specifically, I thought carefully.

“I can’t imagine what I’ll be doing in ten years, but I hope one thing remains unchanged.”

The moon must have been covered by clouds, for the light that entered the room vanished. The darkness enveloped us, but our warmth remained the same. Even with the slightest contact, the three of us flinched.
“What’s the matter?”

“Hmm, I wish I were friends with you and Roger just like now.”

I said it with a laugh to lighten the mood, but it had the opposite effect.

Yurik, do you know? If the contents of the book and your life run parallel, then in ten years, you will push me to death.

“Heh, we’ll still be friends ten years from now.”

At Roger’s response, I snickered.

“People’s hearts always change.”

“Shall we make a promise if you’re anxious?”

Roger and I both turned our heads toward Yurik.

“Ten years from now. Since today is February 23, precisely ten years later, at midnight transitioning from the 22nd to the 23rd, the three of us will meet in the winter garden. No matter what, even if we had a big fight the day before, we have to be there.”

“What if someone doesn’t show up?”

Roger asked.

You could forget the promise, or be insignificant compared to other friends, or relations might not be good. What if someone doesn’t show up?

We needed a compelling solution to make sure the promise was kept.

“Hmm.”

No suitable solution came to mind. Then wouldn’t revenge be better?

“Ah, how about we go to the residence or workplace of the person who doesn’t show up? And we clear up any misunderstandings or reasons they didn’t come.”

That was the revenge, simply going there unannounced. I thought everyone would ponder over it, but they readily agreed.

“Alright, then this promise is absolutely unbreakable. Understand? Especially you, stickinthemud Lise and Fenton, remember this well.”

I was actually worried Roger might break the promise. I bit back the thought as I was about to voice it. Because Yurik had stretched out his arm into the void.

“What are you doing?”

Upon Roger’s query, Yurik gestured for him to also raise his arm. Following the sudden move by Roger, my own arm also rose.

“Let’s pinky swear right here.”

I wasn’t sure if we would remember this promise in ten years… Even with the revenge, if everyone forgets the promise, then it’s over.

The moon, previously obscured by clouds, became visible. As the darkness lifted, three pinky fingers stretching as high as possible appeared. It seemed as if light emanated from those small, cute fingers.

“Lise, you make the promise.”

Yurik whispered.

“… Then let’s really meet ten years later. Never, ever forget, okay?”

At my words, the boys on either side nodded their heads.

Ten years later, February 23.

Lise Marsen,

Yurik Fenton,

Roger Backus.

The three of us promised a precious meeting that would come later.