First day of summer.
I wake up in the morning, shaking off the grogginess.
Since I always wake up around dawn, everything around is very quiet.
The little baby sleeps soundly, snoring softly.
I carefully get up and step outside.
The early morning air is still cool.
First day of summer.
First day of my first summer here.
It feels strange to be outside instead of at the farm.
This should be the time to be busy planting seeds.
Suri notices my movement and quietly perches on my shoulder.
Her casual demeanor makes me smile.
Early dawn.
The time when the light starts to peek through hesitantly.
Even as the sun rises slowly, pushing away the gray sky with care…
I see some people already bustling about their work.
Those helping with flood recovery and those who were affected.
Absentmindedly, I fiddle with the brooch the priest gave me.
The smooth copper texture subtly stimulates my fingertips.
“Have you awakened?”
“You’re active early.”
“As someone who came to help, it wouldn’t do to be late.”
The priest approaches and greets me with a slightly hoarse voice.
His pristine white robes are immaculately tidy, without a speck of mud that had clung to them earlier.
Of course, by the end of today’s busy rounds, the bottom of those robes will likely be caked with dirt.
“Benefactor!”
A familiar yet strange voice calls out.
It was the old man who introduced himself as the village chief yesterday and firmly shook my hand.
“Thank you. Thanks to you, everyone in the village could eat their fill.”
As always, he grasps my hand tightly.
I feel awkward at his heartfelt gratitude.
It didn’t seem like such a big favor to me, but perhaps they perceive it differently.
“I’m glad. I’ll be going now.”
“Oh dear… Are you leaving already? We don’t have much to offer as thanks, which saddens me. Would you tell us your name at least? We’ll surely spread this good deed far and wide.”
“Haha… That’s not necessary. My name is Minho.”
“Minho. I’ll remember that well. Thank you…”
With great effort, I disengage from the village chief’s tearful handshake and continue on my way.
After feeding the hay infused with recovery buffs to the horse, it looks lively and healthy.
I gently stroke its healthy body before mounting it.
“May the blessings of peace be with you on your journey.”
“Please go carefully!”
With farewells from the old man and the priest, I leave the flood-damaged village.
I never imagined getting caught up in such an event on the first day of travel, but adventures are all about these unexpected encounters.
The rhythmic clopping of the carriage wheels against the ground already feels comforting.
I make a mental note of the village’s location, deciding to visit again on my way back.
It wasn’t so much about doing good as simply doing what I could.
The kindness one can extend when circumstances allow.
That kind of margin comes from consistent hard work and diligence.
The capital I accumulated through days of hard labor reveals itself unconsciously in moments like these.
“Suri, you’re an owl but you’re not nocturnal, huh?”
“?”
“You sleep during the night?”
In the bright sunlight, Suri stares blankly at me.
I strike up random conversations while traveling alongside her.
This journey feels less boring than the previous trip to see the fairy.
Her chirping responses, however clumsy, make her seem especially endearing.
Even if our conversation doesn’t fully make sense, it’s enough that we somehow understand each other.
Riding the horse down the well-maintained road,
I take the path opposite to the one leading to Reyvik.
According to the map, this is the faster route to the capital.
The itinerary for the trip is simple and leisurely.
If there’s a nice view, I stop to rest there with the horse.
Enjoying the slow pace, I set up a tent, have meals,
talk to Suri, and practice magic from time to time.
Daily life.
More accurately, the charm of travel lies in enjoying the expanded flow of time, freed from daily routines.
Though there were moments of restlessness from not having anything specific to do after being so busy every day, the leisure becomes even more precious knowing I’ll be busy again soon.
Watching Suri grow day by day is also part of the charm of this journey.
Her gray fluffy coat is gradually shedding, and her small head is growing bit by bit.
There were no incidents like the first day’s village event.
Day one, day two.
Meeting a few people along the way, exchanging brief conversations, then parting ways.
On the fourth day, the evening of the third day of summer, I arrive at the capital.
The majestic city walls.
The vast fields spreading out.
Windmills, brick houses, three-story buildings, the bustling central streets densely packed within the city.
The fragrant smell of grain. The hazy smoke rising from homes preparing dinner.
The view from the high hill looked like a collection of the finest medieval elements.
Is the cleanliness partly due to the influence of magic?
I slowly guide the horse into the city.
There doesn’t seem to be any special restriction on entry.
Though there are guards, they appear to be checking only for suspicious individuals, letting ordinary citizens and merchants pass through loosely.
I casually blend in with the crowd and enter the city naturally.
The outer city. Entering the inner city where the royal palace is located would be another matter, but entering the outer city posed no problems.
Is this confidence in security or just the difficulty of identity verification in medieval times?
Either way, it’s convenient for me.
“Now what?”
With no connections or acquaintances, can I really enter the royal palace based solely on a letter from the princess?
Especially since I was subtly advised not to bring this letter.
I start considering where to stay.
I wander the streets looking for a decent lodging place with a stable.
Following the neatly paved roads with colorful stones underfoot, the horse clops along as evening deepens, making the sounds echo more clearly.
In a slightly peripheral area from the center.
A brightly lit inn with magical enhancements catches my eye, and I naturally head towards it.
Evening seems to double as a tavern, judging by the noisy chatter seeping through the door cracks.
“Planning to stay for two days. Do you have facilities to care for horses?”
“Ah! Please come in. Yes, we do. You know, the maintenance fee is separate from the accommodation fee, right?”
“Yes. How much is it?”
“One gold per night for accommodation. One gold per night for maintenance. Total two gold.”
Is it expensive?
Or is this just the standard rate?
Hard to gauge without prior experience.
“Yes. Four gold should cover it.”
“Alright. Room 303 on the third floor. Where’s your horse? I’ll take care of it for you.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
I was rather curious.
A medieval inn. Accommodation.
Despite the presence of living magic, the overall medieval setting retains its romantic charm.
There might be idols and functioning refrigerators and air conditioners, but the essence of the medieval atmosphere remains.
“Hmm…”
Opening the door to room 303 on the third floor.
Is one gold a high price?
The neat exterior of the inn reflects somewhat inside too.
A fairly tidy room.
Small like a studio apartment, but sufficient for sleeping.
No air conditioning or fans, but no visible bugs, windows present, and no unusual smells.
Yeah, this is quite luxurious for the middle ages.
The increasingly warm night felt uncomfortable, but I’m satisfied with the availability of bathing facilities.
Bathing requires additional payment.
I receive advice to use the communal hot springs if possible while drying off.
Though too lazy to go to the hot springs, I pay the extra fee.
Suri becomes a soaked ball of fluff.
Fortunately, she doesn’t seem to dislike water, happily splashing around.
Thus ends the third day of summer.
It was a sticky warm night.
The fourth day begins with a visit from a stranger in the morning.
“Is anyone inside?”
The unfamiliar male voice echoes through the hot room.
Opening the door reveals a neatly dressed official.
“Yes. Who are you?”
“Can we talk inside?”
Not bothered by the heat, he’s heavily layered, filling the doorway completely.
I invite him in, and the small room feels crowded.
“Hmph. So, you’re the messenger or farmer carrying the princess’s letter, right? Correct?”
“Yes, I’m a farmer. How did you know?”
“Would a farmer have any connection to meet the princess directly? It’s all due to her consideration. Though you might not know, the magic in the letter serves as an alarm.”
“Ah.”
I didn’t sense any magical presence.
Is it because my magic level is too low? Anyway, I’m glad I kept the letter in my inner pocket instead of the bag.
If it had been in the bag, the alarm might not have triggered.
“Do you have the letter?”
“It’s right here.”
“Hmm. Well-preserved. Excellent. I’d like to see the princess immediately, but there are a few etiquettes you need to learn first. Once you’ve mastered them, we’ll proceed.”
“Etiquette for meeting royalty?”
“Sharp farmer. Exactly.”
The man quickly explains several points of etiquette.
Always kneel on your left knee.
Keep your head bowed until told to raise it.
Never touch the princess or any member of the royal family.
Various small rules pour out.
I listen with mild curiosity.
“May I ask a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“There’s Suri, my screech owl. Can she come with me? She can’t be without me.”
“Hmm. Likely not allowed. I’ll inquire, but it’s probably impossible.”
“That’s disappointing.”
Saying that, I genuinely consider not meeting the princess if Suri can’t come.
It wasn’t just empty words.
Seeing my absence makes Suri restless, her eyes filled with anxiety.
She only calms down and proudly puffs up when perched on my shoulder.
It’s like choosing between a long-term friend and a business partner.
Well…
I value Suri, whom I’ve spent days with and will continue to spend time with, over a princess whose face I don’t even know.
“Hmph. Lucky you, farmer. The princess has granted permission. She seems curious about the baby screech owl. Take good care of her.”
“Thank you.”
Fortunately, that issue didn’t arise.
Was it communicated via magical tools? Permission came quickly.
Following the man, I entered the royal castle without any inspections.
Aside from a body search and changing into appropriate attire, the process was very swift.
The maze-like corridors of the castle.
Climbing stairs, encountering several people.
Passing through various paths and extravagantly decorated areas.
Finally, standing before an extremely ornate door, the man politely knocks.
Upon hearing the faint “Come in” from inside, he signals me.
“Be careful. Don’t forget what I told you.”
“Yes.”
I open the door and enter.
As instructed, I bow my head and avoid direct eye contact.
A subtle sweet peach scent fills the air.
Kneeling, I slowly begin speaking according to what I learned.
“Greetings, Princess.”
“Raise your head.”
“Yes.”
Lifting my head, I meet the princess with long black hair flowing freely down her back.
Her strikingly sparkling eyes are captivating.
They’re focused on Suri perched on my right shoulder.
“Is that a screech owl?”
“Yes.”
“It looks like a little ball of fluff.”
“He’s still a baby, hence the appearance.”
“I see?”
The princess slowly approaches.
Kneeling, I position myself where her hand can easily reach my shoulder.
Sure enough, her hand gently moves toward Suri.
“Chirp?”
Suri turns to look at me, seemingly asking for permission.
I nod slightly in affirmation.
As the princess’s hand touches him, Suri slightly shrinks back on my shoulder, closing his eyes lightly.
A typical response from a tactile-loving bird.
The princess continues petting Suri.
The soft fluffy feathers must feel pleasant, but after ten minutes of continuous stroking, I start feeling a bit awkward.
What was I supposed to discuss about crops again?
I recall being told not to initiate conversation, just listen.
So I quietly observe the scene.
For a while.
Silence flows, interrupted only by Suri’s occasional soft chirps, filling the princess’s chamber.
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