Laeli Caris (3)

Viscount Caris had treated me with the most lavish hospitality. I would be returning to my own family soon enough, but he seemed determined to do everything in his power for me in the short time that remained.

Luxuries like sinking into a plush bed were not something I had often enjoyed. Perhaps that was because even with all the power I had possessed, I had chosen a life of madness over wealth and influence. A life of killing at the drop of a hat, of fighting, of staking an infinite number of lives. That was why I felt it all the more keenly now. With those curses I had taken for granted finally gone, even the smallest things had become a source of satisfaction.

I looked down at my left hand, wrapped thickly in bandages. Was this a coincidence? Among all the methods I had used to wield black magic, this had been the one I relied on most. Driving a ritual dagger into my own hand to cast it. So-called Self-Sacrifice. And for an Immortal like me, it had been my favorite approach.

For an ordinary black mage, the more they resorted to that kind of self-sacrifice, the faster they raced toward death. They were burning through their own lifespan, after all. But I had carried an infinite ocean of immortality within me. Scooping water from that sea with a single basket would never empty it.

The spot I always drove the ritual dagger into was my left hand. It only made sense to stab the hand you used less. The wound didn't heal instantly, so a right-hander stabbed the left, and a left-hander did the opposite.

"How convenient."

It was familiar. The dull, muffled sensation of a left hand wrapped in bandages. The tingling ache that came from the wound. And as it happened, the goblin had stabbed me in the left hand as well.

The door burst open. Someone had come in while I was lost in those thoughts.

Laeli. She had dressed herself up more beautifully than before, and she entered with hesitant steps. Unlike last time, she actually looked the part of a noble young lady. The sword still hanging at her hip didn't quite match the rest of the picture, though.

"Thank you for saving me, Young Master Argal."

Laeli offered a small smile as she expressed her gratitude. It felt strange. I hadn't done it specifically for her sake, and yet the entire castle seemed determined to thank me. Every maid wiping a window, every servant hauling a heavy load — each one of them had something to say. Thank you for saving our young lady.

Had I ever been thanked in my previous life? All I had ever heard were voices of hatred, resentment, and despair. This ticklish feeling — was it simply because I wasn't used to it?

"As I've said before, it was only what I should have—"

"How could such a thing ever be a matter of course?"

She cut me off before I could give the same answer I always did. There was a strange intensity in Laeli's eyes. A will of some kind. This wasn't a request for empty, perfunctory forgiveness — this was the courage it took to seek genuine absolution.

"I have something I must tell you."

Like a knight swearing an oath of loyalty, Laeli dropped to one knee.

"I have committed a grave wrong against you."

She confessed her sin.

"I deceived you, and I deliberately led you into a forest where goblins appear."

I had more or less expected this. I already knew she had taken me into that forest to test me. Still, I hadn't thought she would actually confess the crime with her own mouth.

I found myself deliberating. There was no real need to accept her apology. If I made her malice known to others, Viscount Caris would pay me an even steeper price to bury the matter.

But then I suddenly remembered the version of myself who had killed her in the past. That event had been erased, but hadn't I committed a far greater wrong?

After a brief moment of thought, I made my decision.

"And so I beg you, please forgive—"

"Very well."

"Do you... truly mean that?"

"I will forgive you. And the fact that Magi had taken root in that goblin was an unfortunate accident beyond anyone's control."

She was genuinely overjoyed at my words of forgiveness.

The chain of events seemed to have completely overturned her feelings. Something... a far greater variable had come into play. The persistent way she looked at me was hard to dismiss as mere gratitude or the regard one holds for a benefactor. I couldn't begin to understand that emotion, but I could tell it was already too late to reverse it.

"Then I shall see you again before you depart."

"...Very well, Lady Laeli."

"Please, just call me by my name."

It was an odd request, but dropping the excessive formalities was harmless enough. We were the same age, after all. I gave her what she wanted.

"Alright, Laeli."

"Ah— y-yes."

She ducked her head, then immediately spun around and bolted from the room. In that fleeting glimpse, Laeli's face had looked just a little flushed. I couldn't understand it, so I decided not to try. I just wanted to go home already.

In that short span of time, Laeli had sorted through her feelings and taken a hard, honest look at her situation.

First: she had tested her prospective fiancé. Second: because of that, Argal had been badly injured trying to save her. And so it had been proven that Argal was a flawless groom without a single speck of fault — while she, simultaneously, had become the principal culprit who had gotten him hurt. A perfectly tragic outcome.

From the start, Argal had been a match no one could find fault with. He was handsome, his temperament was decent, and he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had no history of scandals or incidents. The only real shortcoming was that his family was relatively modest — but that was a hundred times better than ending up with some wastrel from a prestigious house.

Viscount Caris had known this as well, which was why he had pursued the engagement without overreaching. It was only because Laeli, a young lady overflowing with a knight's spirit, had deducted so many points for Argal's supposed frailty. To any ordinary noble daughter, he would have been a catch worth holding onto.

And then she had discovered that within that supposed weakness — the very thing she had considered a flaw — there lived a courage willing to stake even his own life for someone else. After that, everything about Argal had begun to look different.

The sight of him quietly reading a book in his chambers made her heart hammer of its own accord. She knew how she felt, but she had no idea what to do about it. First, shouldn't she earn his forgiveness? She had said she was sorry, but she was certain he had only accepted it as a formality. There was no way a single word of apology could wash away what she had done.

So she went looking for a knight within the estate. The guards closest to her had all been severely disciplined over the recent incident, so she couldn't go to them. She sought out the one whose face she at least recognized.

"Hans, what do you do when you have to apologize to someone you like?"

"Pardon?"

Hit with that bombshell out of nowhere, Hans's face went blank. But he snapped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back to his senses in an instant and started thinking through what the young lady actually meant. Naturally, Hans had some idea of the current chaos. Word that the young master who had come for the marriage talks had been injured had already spread throughout ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the castle.

Hans mulled it over, then offered his advice. The problem, of course, was that Hans had spent his entire life surrounded by men and didn't know the first thing about women. That said, he got along with the young lady just fine — but that was because Laeli was the strange one, being so comfortable around knights. Even the most awkward of companions become friends after rolling around in the dirt together. And a young lady who trained with a sword and rolled around right alongside them? How could anyone feel uncomfortable around her?

So Hans gave an example of what he himself would do. He had no earthly idea what a young lady ought to do, after all.

"If it were me, I'd lay out my wrongdoing in full and swear to repay it in equal measure."

"That's a good one!"

"Yes, but given your position, my lady, you might want to take a different— My lady?"

Hans scratched his head as he watched the young lady vanish in a flash, leaving nothing but the dust of her heels. She was an odd one, but he figured it would be fine, same as always, and went back to his own work.

Laeli took a deep breath in front of Argal's chambers. She had no desire to put on airs the way other young ladies did. The right thing was to stand tall, lay her true feelings bare, and earn his forgiveness. But if she simply apologized the same way as before, Argal might accept it as nothing more than words. He was kind-hearted enough that he would let it slide without a fuss — and that was exactly what she feared. The engagement would never end well that way.

So she put on a brazen face and stepped forward. She would confess her wrong, and she would offer to repay it.

Laeli dropped to one knee and swore a knight's oath. A girl dressed to the nines as a noble young lady, wearing a knight's sword and reciting a knight's vow — it might have looked faintly ridiculous at a glance. But Laeli had never been more sincere.

And so she made an unshakable vow. Argal, looking somewhat bewildered, had granted her his forgiveness, and she was satisfied. She had put her whole heart into it, and so the words he spoke in return had been genuine as well. The joy came with a generous side of mortification.

For the rest of that day, Laeli couldn't bring herself to lift her head. The things she had said had been so cringeworthy her toes curled. And when she caught the knights whispering among themselves as they looked at their young lady, who had gone as red as a beet, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and disappear.

"The young lady can't even lift her head."

"I heard from Hans she might've confessed to the young master today..."

On top of the oath she had just sworn to Argal, Laeli made one more.

"Hans, you're a dead man."

The two knights who overheard that blood-chilling mutter decided to pray for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Hans's soul. It seemed one knight would be taking a sick day today.

The day of departure arrived. Viscount Caris had paid the medical expenses with extraordinary generosity. The proof sat piled in the carriage — a mountain of wealth that would surely be a considerable help to the territory's finances.

There was no real need to add it to the territory's coffers, either. It was personal assets I was free to keep for myself. Money was the sort of thing that only got better the more you had. Feeling thoroughly satisfied, I made my final farewells.

"I have been most comfortable during my stay. Thank you for your consideration, Viscount."

"Think nothing of it. What you did for us far outweighs any of that. My only concern is the relationship between you and my daughter."

The viscount clasped my hand, giving me a look that said something. Did he need a firm word on the engagement? Given how much effort had gone into this, I could at least offer him some polite reassurance. I had no intention of marrying anyone, but an engagement was doable, and the wedding itself could always be postponed. Everything would be over before it came to that anyway.

"There's no need to worry. We spoke yesterday and agreed to treat each other more comfortably."

"That puts my mind at ease, then..."

Laeli followed after him. She stood at barely half the viscount's height, and her hair was a rose-red, but those fiercely burning red eyes were the very image of her father's. She came to a quiet stop in front of me and spoke.

"Let's meet at the Academy."

The Academy. It felt a little strange. The Academy was a place every child of a noble house attended as a matter of course. Unless you were a fallen noble without even the minimum funds, or a hopeless wastrel beyond saving, enrollment was all but mandatory. It was also the place where the Hero and her companions invariably enrolled.

Before the regression, neither she nor I had gone to the Academy. I had been kidnapped and turned into an Immortal, and she had lost an eye and never left the castle. And now we were both going to a place that neither of us had attended.

"If that's how it turns out."

I left it at those few words. Even now, I couldn't be certain. I would be kidnapped by them on the way back, after all. I would handle it differently than I had in the past, but there was no telling how things would actually play out.

The farewells were done, and I boarded the carriage. Caron followed me in, and the coachman cracked the reins. As the carriage lurched into motion, I felt a tingling in one hand.

My hand was still injured, of course — it hadn't fully healed. Being an Immortal didn't grant me some transcendent regenerative power. It only meant I couldn't die. That said, recovering from a near-death state to the point where I could move around again was relatively fast.

As I stared at my bandaged hand, Caron asked,

"Shall I change the bandages for you?"

"No. It's just tingling."

"Shouldn't you at least have it checked?"

"I'm fine."

It was nothing. This wasn't a wound that would heal in a day or two, and I had already received all the treatment that could reasonably be given. Anything more would be excessive.

I sat there for a while. Then something struck me as odd. Had Caron originally ridden inside the carriage with me? Had we always been this awkward with each other? My memories of the past had been crushed under madness — nothing was clear. Her demeanor seemed a little strange, too.

In the swaying carriage, I closed my eyes. Caron's condition wasn't important in the slightest. The ones who would come for me on the road back to the territory — those were the problem.