Ely Michel (2)
"What's that canister for?"
The question slipped out before I could stop myself, curiosity getting the better of me as he made to leave with the locked cylinder in hand.
"Ah — the contract we signed has been enchanted. Should any of its terms be violated, the offending party immediately receives a... modest amount of pain. At the same time, it prevents anyone other than the contracting parties from altering the contents."
"That said, it is still paper, and paper can be damaged. So we place it in this canister, seal it with magic, and store it in the heavily secured underground vault of the City Official Slave Market. Naturally, no one but the slave's owner can modify what's written inside."
"...It is secure, though. Right?"
"The City Official Slave Market deals in property. I can say with confidence that our security is especially rigorous. And even in the unlikely event that something were to happen — I am linked to the other sales staff, so we serve as mutual witnesses to today's transaction. Even if I were gone, even if some circumstance arose in which the truth could not be spoken, the facts would still be proven through the contract and several other layers of verification. It would be... extremely difficult to circumvent."
He tapped his own chest once, a firm little thump, then ushered Ely Michel and me out of the room. He handed the canister to the staff member in charge and made a point of letting us watch it disappear toward the vault. Meanwhile, she accepted a travel bag of personal belongings from the employees and quietly said her goodbyes.
Something about the sight of her like that sat heavy in my chest. I turned away and leaned against the wall, waiting. After a little while she came and stood before me, head bowed. Her expression had eased considerably, and her ears had settled back into the shape I was used to seeing — one of them folded over just slightly, lending her a strangely calm air.
Charles walked us to the exit and saw us off with a courteous bow.
"Then I shall take my leave. I hope we may meet again, should the opportunity arise."
Not the most comforting farewell, all things considered. I doubted I would ever have reason to come back here. Probably.
Outside, clouds had gathered so thickly that a gloom was settling over the streets even though it was still midday, and people's footsteps were picking up speed. I unfolded the overcoat I had prepared ahead of time and held it out to her.
"Put this on. I got it for you."
"Ah... are you sure I should take this?"
"Take it. Just... please, just take it."
She hesitated, then finally turned her back to me. I eased the coat over her shoulders and reached to pull the hood up — and the ear that had been folded halfway down sank completely forward, as if making room of its own accord.
"...So they can fold all the way down?"
The moment the question left my mouth, the hood I had just settled over her head jerked upward with a sudden fwump.
"Ah? Ah — um... yes. One moment..."
She fumbled at the top of the hood, undid two buttons sewn along the crown, and carefully eased her ears out through the gap. I had wondered, when I bought it, why there were pockets on top of the hood. So that was it — a consideration for beastkin with ears.
Her ears twitched once, twice, then folded down again. Watching them flick this way and that, I found myself thinking, quite unbidden, that it was adorable. My hand started moving on its own; I grabbed it with the other one in a hurry. Instead I reached for the luggage she had set down, meaning to carry it for her — and she snatched the bag away in a flash.
"Ah, no! Please, let me carry it!"
"You've had a long day."
"I... I... I can't. Please let me carry it."
She shook her head, clutching the bag to her chest as though she meant to hug it, so I had no choice but to let her. I started toward the inn, then stopped short as something occurred to me.
"Ah — um, is something the matter?"
"You do know we're going to the Limmir Inn, right?"
The Limmir Inn — the place she had once worked, and the enormous establishment I had mentioned before. I had been staying there ever since I arrived in this city, and changing lodgings at this point would have been a hassle. I had already paid three months in advance, and checking out now would mean forfeiting a cancellation fee on top of everything else. Which would mean spending even more money I might not have.
"Ah... I-I'm fine with that."
"Are you sure —"
"Yes, I'm fine. Truly. If anything... I'm worried it'll cost you more. They assign rooms based on occupancy, so you'll probably have to move from the room you had before, and you've already... spent so much on me, haven't you?"
Now that she mentioned it — I had just dropped 1,200,000 Dicat. What I had left was... maybe 100,000? Ten gold coins' worth. The thought sent a genuine chill through me.
I shuddered, just for a second, and she immediately stepped in close.
"I-is everything all right? Are you feeling unwell?"
Her red eyes met mine. A slender hand brushed my cheek. She studied my face from this angle and that, ears twitching, and I did my best to dodge the uncomfortably intense gaze coming at me through the gap in her hood, waving both hands in dismissal.
"I'm fine. Really. I was just running some numbers. Anyway... this isn't the place for a conversation, and it's lunchtime besides. Why don't we stop by the bank to withdraw some money, grab a meal, and talk things over then?"
We'd have to go through check-in again at the inn either way.
"Ah, I understand. Then —"
Wait. No. That would mean hauling the luggage around the whole time, which sounded like a pain.
"Actually... we should probably drop the bags off in the room first. So — bank, then the inn, then food...?"
"I'm fine with whatever you prefer. Please, do whatever is most convenient for —"
"Inn first, then food."
"...Thank you for being so considerate."
She hesitated, then bowed at the waist. A lock of her white hair — the exact same color as the fur on her ears — slipped out from under the hood, catching the light. Looking at her again, I was struck once more by just how captivating she was. A black hood, and against it those long ears sheathed in white fur. The sharp line of her face that the hood couldn't hide, the high bridge of her nose. And above all, those eyes, those long lids — you could praise them a hundred times and still fall short.
And a person like that was my sl—
Pat. Tap.
Cold droplets began to settle on my face. So the rain was coming after all. The street had grown markedly darker. I decided to pick up the pace — but first, she was trying to pull her ears back through the gap in the hood, probably to keep them from getting wet, and I felt I ought to help.
"Hold on, let me."
"Eh? Ah, wait —"
The instant my fingers touched her ear, I started at the sensation — fur so fine it trembled under the lightest contact. At the same time her ear sprang stiffly upright, which only flustered me further.
But the rain was coming down harder now, so I hurriedly took her ear in a gentle hold and eased it back through the opening in the hood, bit by bit. For something standing so straight, it yielded to my touch with surprising softness, and that unnerving texture sent a shiver straight through me.
"Nnh... hah... ah..."
It was like stroking down. Light, yielding, and warm — so enthralling I nearly forgot my own shoulder was getting soaked. Only after I had tucked both ears beneath the hood did I finally look at her properly.
Her face had gone unmistakably red. She stood rooted to the spot, breathing hard, barely keeping hold of the bag, and looking up at me with faintly damp eyes.
Were her ears a sensitive place? Had I hurt her? Had I done something unforgivable? Yes — that was it. Paul had once warned me never to touch his tail. Maybe this was the same kind of thing. Something you simply weren't supposed to do.
"I-I'm sorry. Did I do something I shouldn't have?"
She shook her head hard, face still burning, and managed a few words through trembling lips.
"Th-that's not it... j-just, let's go. Before the rain gets worse..."
In the end, we didn't exchange a single word — not one — all the way through withdrawing the money, arriving at the inn, and paying the extra charge to switch to a double room. Both of us scarlet to the ears. Every time our eyes met, heat flooded our faces all over again.
It felt like I had done something I shouldn't have. Or rather — maybe I actually had.
Fortunately she had pulled the hood down low, so the clerk at the desk processed the extra charge without any particular reaction and handed over a new key. We would return the old one after I collected my things from the original room.
We climbed the stairs slowly. While she waited in the open doorway, I stuffed what was left in my pack in a rough heap, and together we went up to the new room. I opened the door onto a sweeping view — a leaden sky, and rain-darkened mountains of deep green stretching away beyond it. A somewhat larger desk, two chairs, a dresser with a mirror, and...
One bed?
I turned to her in a panic. She just stood there with her head bowed low.
"Ah... no, wait. I'll go have them change the room. Nobody said anything about the beds being pushed together —"
"A-ah, no, you don't have to..."
"That is absolutely not fine. There is no way sharing a single bed is all right."
"I-I thought I would be sleeping on the floor?"
"Sleeping on the floor? What are you talking about? Weren't you going to sleep in a bed?"
Both of us had clearly been expecting a very different conversation, and for a moment an awkward current hung in the air. Something uncomfortable. Something stifling.
She was the one who broke it.
"Um... before we continue, would it be all right if I set the luggage down and closed the door first?"
"...You don't need to ask permission for every little thing. And — whew. We do have quite a bit to talk about. That's for sure."
The way she treated me sat poorly with me, and the constant glancing for cues was starting to grate. This was something we needed to settle clearly, here and now. If we didn't establish how we were going to live going forward — if we just kept moving without laying anything down — we would only keep circling each other in this same rigid atmosphere.
But still. Living in the same room as a woman this beautiful. Was that really something I could handle? Those twitching ears of hers were genuinely bad for my heart. Especially the way they had felt...
F-first things first: stop staring like an idiot. And lunch — we would have to order that to the room. We were about to have a fairly serious conversation, and having it somewhere loud and crowded did not sound like a good idea.