“I said to sleep in my bed, didn’t I?”
Saito’s heart started racing.
“Really? It's ok?”
Louise didn't respond. Saito slipped into the bed thinking that she would probably get angry if he didn’t do what he was told.
Louise was still awake. She opened her mouth, as if she had wanted to talk to him.
“So, you’re really going to the lands in the east?”
“Yeah.” Saito replied.
“It’s dangerous you know. Those elves hate humans…”
“But humans live in the areas beyond the lands of the elves right? Like that place called Rub' al.”
“The nature of those humans is completely different. It’ll be dangerous.”
It seemed like Louise was worried about letting Saito go.
“You’re still going to go?”
Saito thought about it briefly and nodded.
“Well, I might be able to find a clue to go back home.”
Louise was moving around under the sheets. Just as he was wondering what she was doing, she rested her head on his chest.
“Wha—”
“I'm just using it instead of my pillow!” Said Louise in a sulky and angry voice.
Louise placed her hands on his chest and lightly traced her fingers on it. Electricity seemed to flow through Saito’s spine.
“Don’t misunderstand me. This doesn’t mean I like you or anything!” Louise said in an embarrassed voice.
She then went back to her usual angry voice.
“Are you still going to go even if I say no?”
Saito remained silent.
“I thought so…” Louise whispered.
“This isn’t your world, is it… Of course you’d want to go back.”
Louise’s hair had a beautiful fragrance. The sound of her breathing was close as well. The two were silent. Saito was thinking of many things. Saito wasn’t talking, and Louise didn’t know what else to say, so she simply hugged Saito’s chest tightly.
“I don’t want you to leave. When you’re beside me I can sleep without worrying. You make me angry…” Louise said in a tiny voice while embracing Saito.
Looks like those puffy eyes were because she didn’t sleep, thought Saito. Soon, Louise’s steady breathing, like that of a child’s, could be heard near Saito’s chest. She was fast asleep.
Louise was so pampered it made his heart race. Seems like she’s uneasy without me around. Well, I’m a familiar after all.
Listening to her breathing, Saito was deep in thought. He thought of the people he had met in this world.
He had met many people within his few months in Halkeginia. There were evil people, but also kind people.
There was Marteau from the kitchen who gave him food.
Osman, who had told him he would lend him his hand if he needed help.
Colbert, who had gladly concocted the gasoline for him.
A snob and often offensive, but a friendly person who had his own qualities, Guiche.
Not a human but a sword, a partner he had depended on, Derflinger.
Henrietta, the beautiful princess.
Courageous… and dead because of it, Prince Wales.
Tabitha, a silent person but someone who had saved him on numerous occasions.
The seductive Kirche, who said she liked Saito, though it might have been a joke.
Siesta, the cute and kind maid… who probably had feelings for him.
And lastly, his master next to him, who made his heart race. Arrogant and stuck up, but one who occasionally showed kindness that would melt his heart, Louise. A girl with pinkish blond hair and big reddish brown eyes.
When the time comes for me to go home, will I be able to leave these people with a smile on my face?
Will I be able to leave Louise with a smile?
I don’t know.
But… Saito thought
The people who have been kind to me, I want to do the most I can for them.
At least while I’m in this world, I want to do something for them.
He hadn’t felt these feelings before up until now.
For the time being, Saito embraced Louise’s head gently.
Louise groaned in her sleep.
Chapter Nine: Declaration of War
The Germanian king, Albrecht the Third, had arranged for Princess Henrietta’s wedding ceremony to take place in Germania’s capital, Vindobona. The date of the ceremony: the first day of the month Nyuui.
Currently, the Mercator flagship of the Tristain fleet was to welcome the guests of the New Albion government by leading them to La Rochelle, where they would stay anchored in the skies above it.
The commander in chief of the fleet, Count La Ramée, sat in the quarterdeck in formal attire. Next to him, Captain Fevisu was stroking his moustache. It was far past the arranged time.
“They sure are late, Captain.”
La Ramée replied with an irritated voice.
“Those Albion dogs who killed their king with their own hands are probably still busy acting like dogs.”
The sailor on the top deck suddenly informed him of the fleet’s approach in a loud voice.
“A fleet! From the left!”
With a large ship leading in front, which could easily be mistaken as a cloud, the Albion fleet had started to descend.
“So that’s the standard of Albion’s ‘Royal Sovereign’ fleet…” said the captain, watching the large ship in awe.
It was the ship that would have had the ambassador on it.
“Something that no one would want to meet on a battlefield, that’s for sure.”
The Albion fleet descended until they were level with Tristain's fleet. The Albion ship began sending signaling messages from the mast.
“We thank you for your fleet’s welcome. This is the captain of Albion’s Lexington.”
“We have an admiral on board! Using a captain to correspond… we’re being treated like fools” the captain said resentfully, while looking over Tristain’s weak array of ships.
“They’re probably thinking the world is within their grasp now that that they have that ship. Reply to them with ‘We give you our warmest welcome. This is the commander in chief of the Tristain fleet’”
La Ramée’s words were passed on to the sailor who was standing on the mast. The signaling flag for the message was then hoisted up.
The Albion fleet fired their cannons in salute. There were no shells inside the cannon, they had merely let gunpowder explode.
Though the Lexington fleet had done a mere cannon salute, the air around it shook. La Ramée retreated slightly. Even though he knew that live ammunition couldn't possibly reach across the distance separating them, the force of the cannons from the Lexington fleet was able to make the experienced admiral retreat.
“Fire our cannons in response.”
“How many shells shall we fire? For the top nobles, eleven is required.”
The number of shells to be fired depended upon the person’s rank and social status.
“Seven will do,” ordered La Ramée watching with a grin on his face like a stubborn child.
“Prepare the cannons! Seven shots, one by one! Fire when they’re ready!”
On the afterdeck of the Lexington, flagship of the fleet, Bowood was looking at the Tristain fleet. Next to him was Sir Johnston, the commander in chief, responsible for the entire invasion squad. Being a member of the council of nobles, Cromwell trusted him deeply. However, he had no experience. He was a politician after all.
“Captain…” Johnston said to Bowood in a worried voice.
“Sir?”
“Is it alright to go so close to them? We have those new long range cannons equipped right? Put some distance between us. His Excellency has entrusted me with important soldiers.”