The older children, like Piso and Livia, were already able to help cut some of the wheat along the edges with lighter sickles.
Livia's little face was taut as she imitated her mother, doing her best to cut neatly, but she lacked the strength, and the wheat stalks always ended up crooked.
Fine beads of sweat seeped out from beneath her bangs, glinting faintly in the sunlight.
Piso saw it from beside her and secretly snickered before awkwardly demonstrating. Even his grip on the sickle was still unfamiliar.
"Hey, rookie! Put some strength into your wrist, like this..."
But he failed to cut properly himself, leaving the stubble uneven.
The two glared at each other, neither willing to yield, and began competing again. Specks of grass clung to their childish faces like golden freckles in the morning light.
At some point, Kryudera had also come to the edge of the field. She did not approach, merely standing quietly beneath a sparse-leaved birch tree some distance away.
A light breeze passed by, and her deep blue hair shimmered with fine radiance in the morning light like flowing ocean currents. A few loose strands rested lightly against the cool lines of her cheeks.
The former emperor's gaze swept across that golden sea, her eyes profound, as though she were looking through the scene before her at something far more distant.
Her lips were pressed into a straight line, revealing neither joy nor sorrow.
Perhaps she was thinking of how their ancestors had once sweated over the land when the city-state was first founded; perhaps of the near-luxurious longing for such peace and abundance amid the flames of war.
Mydei and Phainon also came over, their boots sinking into the soft earth of the field ridges.
Phainon carried a basket on his back