Riona (1)
Repairing the arms stored inside the castle turned out to be far worse than I'd imagined.
"Gaaaaah!"
For one thing, they were heavy.
"Come on. Would it have killed them to standardize? Why is one copper, one marble, and another steel?"
The materials were completely random.
Crack.
"Wow. Broke again."
Plenty of them were so old they'd rusted clean through. The real problem, though, was that I had to deal with every last piece of it myself. I couldn't take my eyes off the arms for a second, so the first day I went hungry from dawn to dark, and it was past midnight before I finally got to eat a few of the potatoes I'd split with Arie.
Sleep like this and I'm going to wake up with my whole body locked into one giant ache...
Day two. Sure enough, I'd called it. My arms were fine—I swung a hammer every day—but hauling heavy loads one after another had left my legs with nothing in them.
I'm... fucked.
I rolled sideways and barely managed to tumble off the bed. Without something to grab, though, I couldn't get back up.
Today... I'm really going to do a little and then lie right back down.
Bracing a hand against the wall, I dragged myself out of my room—and found someone I hadn't expected standing in the forge.
"Just as I expected, Mr. Karon."
"Huh? What are you doing here?"
Christine was carrying arms in both hands, hauling them into the forge.
"Orders from His Grace the Duke. I also have something to deliver."
"Orders?"
"Yes. He said it would be too much for you alone, so I was to assist you. He also instructed me to see that you eat."
Thud.
She tossed what she'd been holding into a corner of the forge.
"Hey, throw them like that and they'll cra—"
Only then did I actually look. Ten or so suits of armor were already laid out in a neat row before the furnace, close enough that if I sat in the chair and turned, I could reach them without standing.
"His Grace said it would be faster to melt them down and forge them anew."
"That's why you threw them, right?"
"Can you derive any other reason?"
"Being annoyed. Not feeling like it. Reasons like that."
Christine regarded me in silence.
"I have not yet had such thoughts. Carrying out His Grace's command comes first."
"Have you eaten?"
"I came out the moment I opened my eyes. I have not eaten."
"Hang on a second. The potatoes—"
"Remain where you are."
She planted me in the chair by force, then drew a pair of tongs from the basket on the desk.
"Sorry?"
"His Grace sent meat. I will grill it, so please wait."
"Meat?"
Bread and potatoes were the staples here. Cheese and fruit were common enough, but meat was something you usually only saw at a noble banquet. Nobles ate it when there was a feast. I was not a noble.
"Yes. So please stay seated."
Maybe that was why. It had been so long since I'd laid eyes on meat that I was on my feet and crossing to Christine before I knew it.
"Hold on. Are you any good at grilling?"
"Pardon?"
I reached for the tongs in her hand.
"I am Christine."
"What?"
"I am the one chosen Best Maid five years in a row."
"And that has what to do with grilling meat, exactly?"
Best Maid or not, there was no way she could out-grill a modern guy who'd flipped pork belly whenever he got bored.
"Do you not trust me?"
"Just—the tongs, first—"
I'd forgotten. If Christine and I fought on strength, I lost. Every time. I grabbed the tongs and pulled. They didn't budge.
"I did not anticipate this."
Christine didn't even look flustered. She was staring, steadily, at everything below my navel.
"You are walking quite well. Once you have eaten, it would be best to begin lower-body training at once."
"Ah, no. You need to go back inside the castle."
"His Grace has permitted me to stay out overnight until you have finished repairing all the arms."
…?
"What?"
"Why are you so surprised?"
Not being surprised would have been the strange part.
"N-no, I mean—where are you going to sleep?"
"Should you not be the one to decide that, Mr. Karon?"
There wasn't a lie in her manner. She meant every word.
Ha. Duke Shale. You've really committed to this, haven't you?
In this era, a man and a woman sleeping under the same roof was no different from a common-law marriage. And word of Christine would spread through every maid in the castle. That much was obvious.
"Didn't Lady Arie, the one you actually serve, have anything to say about it?"
"Ah. As of yesterday, Her Ladyship has vanished from the castle."
And what was that supposed to mean?
"What?"
"She entered the underground chamber together with Lady Eris."
"Why?"
"She did not give me the details. Most likely something to do with preparations for the Debutante."
So Arie was preparing something of her own as well.
"Did she leave any message for me?"
I still hadn't settled on an answer in my own heart. Even so, I'd decided to at least confirm who the opponent was.
"No message, as such. However."
Christine drew a letter from inside her clothes.
"She asked me to deliver this to you."
Here it was. I knew the name of the young lady who had faced Eris in the original work. Exactly.
Please. Please don't let that name be written in here.
But the moment I opened the letter, that hope scattered on the wind.
I am enclosing the bracket, along with the match results I anticipate. Karon.
Predicted final: Eris vs. Riona
"Ah."
Far to the south of here lay Menden, and there the Person count family held their lands. It was the south, as far as one could get from the monsters of the north—a place of sea and fertile soil. Scholarship, magic, and architecture had all flourished because of it, and it was no exaggeration to say that most scholars of any renown came from Menden. If House Olivia was the heart of the Empire, House Person was its brain.
The young lady of House Person... Riona.
Unlike the Olivias, who wielded the power of nature, House Person studied and practiced magic of every kind.
After Eris loses Arie, the first thing she does is wipe out House Person. Once she's gotten her hands on all those grimoires.
The thoughts started to pile up. If Riona really did meet Eris in the final, and if I reinforced the weapon she carried, every countermeasure I'd prepared until now could come to nothing.
"Mr. Karon."
Christine called to me.
"Y-yes?"
"Lady Arie instructed me to deliver two letters."
"Two?"
Instead of answering, she produced another.
"She said that after the first, if you were wearing that expression, I was to give you this one."
"What expression was I wearing?"
Christine let out a thin little breath of a laugh.
"The face of someone carrying everything alone. You looked ten years older."
Even shut inside a sealed chamber, Arie was still trying to manage me.
Unbelievable.
I shook my head and tore the letter open. Inside, there were only two lines.
Do not try to catch the wind. What we reach for is a tremor that has already passed.
What is this? I feel like I've seen it. Where?
I had definitely seen the phrase. Maybe I'd simply had too much on my mind lately, because the source didn't come to me at once.
Ah.
It came back. I'd heard those words in the memories held inside the staff.
That was something Arie's grandmother said to Duke Shale... Is it a saying passed down through the family?
Remembering it, though, was not the same as understanding what it meant.
"Is this all of it, Miss Christine?"
"She left one more remark. Will you hear it as she said it, or as I would phrase it?"
"As she said it."
Christine drew a deep breath, looked at me, and began.
"Mr. Karon is an idiot, so no matter what I write, he probably won't understa—"
"One moment."
"Shall I soften it?"
"...Yes."
She nodded, and answered shortly.
"She says the plan she mentioned before is canceled."
"Canceled?"
"Yes. So she says you are not to worry over it."
Had she done it for me, knowing I'd keep agonizing? Either way, it felt as if one heavy burden had come loose.
Did she give up on that plan? Or is there another way?
I didn't know whether she was choosing reality over a dream, or whether she'd found a new road.
It's not my place to argue about it... If she drops by the forge later, I'll just tell her she worked hard.
So whatever it turned out to be, I decided to cheer her on.
"Miss Christine."
"Yes, Mr. Karon."
"Let's get to work."
"As you command."
And so, just as the Duke had said, I melted the armor down and forged it anew. Christine trimmed vegetables, and whenever the arms beside me ran out, she went outside and brought in a fresh supply.
Clang. Clang.
Was it the steady ring of metal, or the flame that never stopped burning? Once my mind settled and my thoughts sorted themselves out, the worry I'd put off came creeping back.
Where... do I put her to sleep?
The forge had only three spaces to begin with: the workshop, the receiving room, and my room. Making her sleep in the workshop wasn't something you did to a person, and the receiving room had nothing but chairs.
Which means the only thing left is my room...
I couldn't bring myself to look at her.
"What is the matter?"
Why was she so quick to notice? Christine, who had been simmering a vegetable stew, was watching me.
"Well..."
"Please speak."
"About sleeping."
"Yes."
"Would you maybe take turns?"
"? Why would we sleep in turns?"
"Because the only place anyone can actually sleep is my room..."
Silence fell.
"...What, exactly, are you thinking?"
"What?"
Instead of answering, Christine seized each shoulder with the opposite hand and backed away.
"So that was what you wanted."
"? No, wait a second. You're the one who said we should start by having a child, so why all of a sudden—"
"So it really was that."
"No. Seriously. It is not."
Christine's expression did not ease.
"Those are instructions for when one is a spouse. We are not spouses yet."
"I'm telling you I have no intention of laying a hand on you."
She glared at me a moment longer, then lowered her hands from her shoulders.
"If that is the problem, do not worry."
"There's a solution?"
"Yes. His Grace did not send only me."
"What?"
"They will arrive shortly."
Crack—
"Uh."
Someone's kick broke the forge door.
"I... have arrived, Mr. Karon."
It was Joaquin, bedding slung over both shoulders.
"Ah... yes."
"What were you discussing with my daughter?"
"We were discussing where to sleep, Father."
He glared at me for a moment, then headed for the receiving room.
"I shall have to make two cots first."
"I do not mind sleeping on the floor, Father."
"Christine. One must sleep properly."
Strangely enough, their noisy bustle lightened my mood.
"Sir Joaquin."
"What is it."
I pointed toward the door and shrugged.
"Before you make the beds, fix the door."