The Crimson-Eyed Noblewoman (2)

Five minutes later.

"Very good. We're nearly finished."

At last, before wrapping up the abbreviated entry inspection, I looked down at the short memo I'd jotted on my notepad.

Brief — and yet somehow utterly ill-fitting in every way that mattered.

"..."

In all my years of service, I had never seen such an absurd entry document.

"Is that truly your full name? There's barely any space left to write on the form."

"It is but a pet name. The full thing is twice as long, at the very least."

"I'll simply record you as Mnassil, then."

That was the trouble with long-lived species. So much of what they carried was needlessly long — their names, their titles, all of it.

Come to think of it, our Hearing Officer's true name is eleven characters ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠long too.

And this was my first time seeing an age with four digits as well.

"An age of 1,291 years... are you being serious with me?"

That would make her older than our entire kingdom.

Mnassil answered with a beaming smile.

"To be precise, that is my age counted only through the years I have been awake. I do not count the time I spent sleeping."

Meaning she was actually older than that.

"..."

I decided not to think about it too deeply. It would only give me a headache.

Besides, the fact that I was listed as the reason for her entry was absurd in itself.

But this was a provisional inspection, and it was far too late to start nitpicking. Having resolved to take her in, this was nothing more than going through the motions.

"Then, one final question."

I shrugged and gestured at the egg resting behind her.

"When is your egg expected to hatch?"

The most important question of all. The whole reason Mnassil had come here was to protect that egg. Which meant, conversely, that once it hatched, there was no telling what would happen next.

Which is exactly why I need a precise hatching date.

If I let this slide and it stretched into a matter of years, I would be in genuine trouble. My father used to say that every contract in this world was a battle of deceiving and being deceived.

Mnassil answered readily enough.

"Soon."

"And when, precisely, is 'soon'?"

I pressed her, brow furrowing, but she only carried on in that unhurried way of hers.

"That, no one can know. Until the child within chooses to break free of its shell, there is nothing to do but wait and watch."

- Screeeeech.

Without a moment's hesitation, I drew a red line across the form.

"Evasive and irresponsible answer. Uncooperative attitude during interrogation. Entry is denied—"

"That's too far, even for you! Even I, its own mother, genuinely do not know!"

The crimson woman wailed at me, on the verge of tears.

"For a dragon, the hour of birth is a thing it chooses for itself!"

"So you're telling me it simply won't come out if it doesn't feel like it?"

"In theory, aye, that is so."

"What's the longest that's ever gone on record?"

"If memory serves... the egg of a Frost Dragon once took thirty-five years to wake, I believe?"

I rose from my seat at once and headed for the door.

"I'll fetch a hammer. Wait here, please."

"Nooo, no no no! A jest, woman, a jest! I have slept upon my egg for over thirty years already, so it will truly hatch soon! Sixty days at the most! I give you my word!"

"You swear? Two months, tops?"

"Y-yes! I swear it upon a dragon's pride!"

If the panic-stricken Mnassil hadn't been clutching at my sleeve, I'd have gone straight to making dragon-egg omelets right then and there.

Only after several more rounds of that back-and-forth did the provisional entry inspection finally come to an end.

"Very well. I have no further questions."

"Then... it is done?"

"Yes."

I gave a small nod and spoke quietly.

"Welcome to the Crossline Kingdom. You are now officially registered as a refugee."

"Haaah... to think humans do this every single day... utterly exhausting creatures, you are..."

Only then did Mnassil stretch luxuriously and flop back onto the bed. I watched her with a troubled expression.

The real problem starts now.

From this moment, Mnassil and the egg had become the Immigration Office's responsibility. But that could never be made public. If word got out that a dragon was here, it would draw the attention of the entire world. Those coveting the egg would inevitably appear.

And that wasn't all. Considering what a dragon symbolized, even the Crossline Kingdom wouldn't be safe. Dragon-slayers — or dragon-tamers. The kingdom's vassals would never pass up such a golden opportunity: a chance to spread the nation's image far and wide alongside a spectacular reputation.

What was I to do?

We'll need a fabricated identity.

That was the best option. In her current human form, so long as she was given a new identity, no one would ever recognize her.

But that was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠beyond the Immigration Office's authority. Worse, identity forgery was a crime — and one of the more serious offenses we were supposed to catch during entry inspections, no less.

Then what am I supposed to...

Meanwhile, Mnassil was resting her chin on her hand, watching me with evident fascination as I sank into thought.

"How curious, though."

"What is, my lady?"

"Just as my friends said. There truly is no mana to be felt from you at all."

Ah, that.

"As I mentioned, this officer's body carries no energy whatsoever. Aside from... that 'Latent Talent Manifestation' thing, that is."

In exchange for the ability to speak every language, I'd been given a body that couldn't use even the smallest scrap of power — mana included. That was me.

But Mnassil shook her head.

"No... that is not it. It is something rather different."

"Pardon?"

"Come closer and give me your arm."

With that, she pushed herself upright again. The blanket she'd barely managed to keep draped over herself slid away, baring that embarrassingly shameless body once more. I hastily averted my eyes and extended my arm, and her warm hand ran slowly along my forearm.

"Hoh... quite soft skin for a man. And yet calluses upon your fingertips... these are hands that will be well loved by females."

"That's sexual harassment, my lady."

"Call it a compliment."

I suppressed the urge to yank my arm back.

- Twitch.

The moment she pressed near a vein in my arm, her whole body went rigid.

"It is less that you are empty than that..."

She murmured something under her breath, then lifted her head and looked at me.

"You are made of black. Are you aware of that?"

"...Erzena did tell me something like that once."

I remembered. It was back in the pilgrimage days, when she'd said it to me.

"She said I was like an utterly frozen night sky. A black so complete it bordered on nothingness."

A pitch-black hole that didn't belong in the grand painting called the world. It had been a rather cutting way to put it, but no other description had fit better.

"That child has a discerning eye. Though it seems she never learned why you are that way."

"I'm sorry?"

"If you were merely a mana-incompatible, then the only thing I could sense from you would be emptiness. A life with no wellspring of vitality is no different from a corpse. And yet — alongside the cold I feel warmth, and alongside the emptiness, fullness."

She reached out and laid her palm against my chest.

"Everything is contained within here, tangled together like chaos. Inside this."

"..."

What on earth was she talking about?

"Wh-what is that supposed to mean? There is nothing contained in this officer."

Mnassil, saying the exact opposite of everything I'd believed about myself all this time, gave a faint smile.

"If that were true, the opposite should have happened. Had you truly been hollow, your body would have siphoned in the energies around you, desperate to fill itself."

"But you are full to the brim. That is precisely why there is no room for mana or any other energy to enter. In short — you are so utterly without gaps that you merely look like a hole."

"No — rather... you overflow, enough that you could give to others and still have plenty left over."

I was dumbfounded. This was something entirely new.

There was something crammed full inside me?

"...What exactly are you trying to say?"

"I am saying that this is not a phenomenon nature could ever produce on its own."

"Pardon?"

"No stroke of chance, however cruel, could ever bring it about. It is as though someone deliberately planted it there."

And then she added, almost as an afterthought:

"It may well be that this 'Latent Talent Manifestation' of yours was never some random gift that happened to descend upon you at all."

A blow like a hammer to the skull crashed over me.

Come to think of it, no one had ever told me why I became a Talent Awakener, or by what criteria I was chosen.

This was a first. Mnassil was the first person to ever explain my existence and this power of mine in such concrete terms.

- Grab.

I seized her hand and asked.

"So... you mean to say that I — that something like that power exists inside me too?"

"Hmm... too stable to call it power, and too faint to call it an ability..."

"What on earth is it, then? You just said there's something in me!"

"My wisdom reaches only this far. But worry not."

This time, it was Mnassil who took my hand, drawing me toward her.

"Let us discover it together. The time you bought for me ought now ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to be spent meaningfully, should it not? I shall gladly walk beside you on your journey."

Two eyes blazing like fire gazed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠steadily at me. For just a moment, this woman looked different.

"Well? Am I not worth protecting an egg for now?"

Confidence radiated from every line of her face.

Only then did I truly remember, all over again, that Mnassil was a dragon. Before me sat the distilled product of wisdom and experience accumulated over ages untold. And alongside it, words that slithered in as slyly and subtly as a serpent.

Though her strength as a dragon had been spent to the last drop, Mnassil was, without question, a dragon. An ancient species, far beyond anything human.

"...Ha."

To keep from being swept away by that charisma — glinting bright despite its faded color — I somehow wrestled the conversation elsewhere.

"P-perhaps you should get dressed first."

"Hm? Clothes?"

"I have nowhere to look. Miss Hannah! Please bring some clothing!"

I called for Hannah without waiting for any response. A moment later, she flung the door open and came in with an armful of garments.

"These are all the clothes Her Highness and Lady Erzena don't wear anymore."

- Rustle, rustle.

Mnassil tilted her head at the cascade of clothing piling up before her.

"Why clothes all of a sudden? I'm quite comfortable as I am."

"An expedition will be formed for the Western Volcanic Belt before long. When that happens, they'll learn that you did not die — that you are merely missing."

The lord of the volcano had vanished. That news would immediately imply that something, weakened and diminished, still lived somewhere out there. Seekers would surely come looking.

"And if rumors start circulating that a beautiful woman is wandering about naked at a time like that, attention will inevitably follow."

"Then I shall dress at once."

Thankfully, Mnassil paid the sudden change of subject no mind and began putting on clothes, piece by piece. What she chose was a long, crimson dress. She turned once in a full circle.

"Hmm. And how does it look?"

Hannah, standing behind her, opened her mouth.

"Wow..."

Truly, the moment she put clothes on, the impression changed entirely. If anything, she drew the eye even more than she had bare.

A color that matched those crimson eyes and hair enveloped her — and it was as though passion itself had been given the form of a woman, standing there smiling before me.

I nodded as well.

"Not bad at all."

A mature beauty. Was there any phrase that fit better?

They called her an aged dragon, yet nowhere on her did I sense the passage of years. Her very aura differed from that of ordinary people. Her manner of speech, her appearance, even the brief movements I'd just witnessed — elegance practically seeped from every one of them.

"Hmm..."

Leaving her with mere refugee status would almost feel stranger than the alternative.

And then, a good idea flashed through my mind.

"My lady."

"Hm?"

"For your cover identity — how does a noblewoman of a fallen house sound?"

Mnassil, the noblewoman of a ruined family. That actually lined up rather well. Her nest had been destroyed, leaving her alone in the world — while at the same time she had reigned as a mother, and as master of the volcano for untold ages.

It suits her better than any word could.

Besides, the name worked fine too. True, it was a dragon's name used as-is, but plenty of people in this world shared names with the great and famous. A house that took the dragon as its symbol — no one would question that.

"Fallen... how very fitting that is."

She smiled a bittersweet smile. But then her gaze drifted to her own egg, and she murmured:

"And yet, 'fallen' also means there is room to rise again. So long as her descendants remain, the house is not truly lost."

"Excellent! From this day forth, I am Noblewoman Mnassil. Under this name I shall spend what years remain to me in amusement. And this place — this shall be my nest."

Amusement. It was the game dragons devised to while away the tedium of living a thousand years and more: concealing their true nature and living decades among other species as one of them.

I quietly clenched my fist.

Good. The cover identity is settled.

The remaining problem was how to make it official — and as I'd said, the Immigration Office had no authority over that.

Which was exactly when it happened.

- BANG BANG BANG!

Someone pounded furiously on the front door.

"Central Officer, sir! If you're in there, please open up!"

When I opened the door, the face that appeared was a familiar one.

"Agent R?"

The agent dispatched to the Southern Border took one look at me and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Ah, you're safe! Thank goodness. I've come bearing urgent news, sir."

And I, for my part, put on a look of relief as well.

"You couldn't have arrived at a better time! Truly the Intelligence Department, through and through!"

"...Pardon?"

Come to think of it, we did have one. A department that handled identity fabrication and espionage.

The Intelligence Department.

- Grab.

I seized his arm so he couldn't bolt.

"Come right in. There's something I urgently need from you."

You. Me. One job. Together. Now.