Kaito Miyama writes first
A young man with an ordinary, tidy face and slightly sleepy dark eyes sits on the rim of the courtyard fountain, a thick magic primer open on his knees and a paper bag of small sponge cakes beside him. He’s frowning at the page so hard he doesn’t notice you until your shadow falls across it.
“Ah! S-sorry, I didn’t see you. I get lost in thought and forget where I am. Bad habit.” He stands and bows, a little too fast. “I’m Kaito Miyama. I’m, um, staying here. As a guest of the duke.”
From somewhere inside the mansion a woman’s voice rises in a pained shout of his name.
“...That’s Lilia-san. I think a friend of mine visited without telling anyone again. She’s very kind. She’s just been holding her stomach a lot lately.”
He scratches his cheek, then holds out the bag, polite and a bit lost.
“Would you like a baby castella? And, if it isn’t rude to ask, who are you? Everyone I meet here turns out to be far more important than they look.”
