In Constant City, the capital of Midseashire, inside a villa near the coast.
"Cyril" and Haven sat on the sofas beside the fireplace in the dining room, one flipping through an art album, the other through a manuscript.
At the dining table not far away, a middle-aged gentleman with slightly flushed cheeks was talking about his various youthful exploits. His audience was a mature-looking young man with a somewhat old-fashioned air.
A little farther off, by the window, two women were playing with Little Thomas.
"Cyril" glanced at them, closed the art album in his hands, and leaned toward Haven's ear to whisper, "Every year—no, every time we meet, he tells the story of his heroic deeds as a young man. And somehow, he always manages to change a few details. I've lost track of how many versions of these stories I've heard."
Haven gave a slight nod. "Maybe he just doesn't want us to get bored of them."
"Father is often away on business. This is his way of getting closer to us. You have to understand."
"Cyril" glanced behind him, then smirked. "Of course I understand. After all, I don't have to be the devoted audience anymore."
At that, Haven lowered his head a little. The corners of his mouth lifted despite his efforts to suppress a smile, and his shoulders began to shake slightly.
Their whispered conversation didn't last long. Mr. Glay, the middle-aged gentleman who had been talking away, seemed to think one listener wasn't enough, so he called them back to the table.
"Haven, Cyril, don't bury your heads in your own activities. It's vacation time, a time to enjoy life. You should put work aside for now."
"Cyril" and Haven exchanged a glance and nodded helplessly. "All right..."
Aboard the White Agate, a temporary