Three Hearts in Two Carriages
With a jolt and the grind of wheels, the familiar scenery beyond the carriage window swept past — familiar, and yet somehow distant now.
As they left the barren wastelands of the Demon King's domain behind and crossed into imperial territory, the desolate landscape was slowly reclaiming its color, tinged once more with green.
But the scenery was the last thing on Anastasia's mind.
Every nerve in her body was focused on the one person sitting across from her in the carriage: Logan.
'This isn't a dream, right? Right?'
She tried her best to feign composure, but her heart was pounding so violently it felt ready to burst.
It had started with Logan leaning on her shoulder last night — and now they were riding home together, alone in this carriage!
Just from having held him, even briefly, her chest had swelled so much that she hadn't slept a wink.
'I didn't even get to do my makeup properly. I don't look haggard, do I?'
Worried that dark circles might have appeared under her eyes, that she might look exhausted, she stole a glance at him while pretending to gaze at the scenery outside the window.
His profile still looked a little worn, but he seemed far more at ease than before, when he had been drowning in deep anguish. That alone put her heart somewhat at rest.
'Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah.'
Anastasia found controlling herself nearly impossible.
Ever since Logan's help had cured her illness five years ago, she had weathered every conceivable trial — purging every saboteur and schemer in the imperial palace.
She had thought herself well practiced in mastering her own emotions, but before him, all of that discipline was useless.
The brakes inside her heart had all but failed completely.
'So good. So good, so good, so good. Logan, Logan, Logan, Logan, Logan.....'
Every fiber of her being wanted to ask him, right this instant, to call her 'Anya' again like he had yesterday.
Wanted him to hold her.
More than that... more... more..!
She wanted so badly to express the depths of her love.
But she barely held herself back.
'...I can't put my own selfish desires first... Logan is still...'
His wounds were fresh. His heart must be churning with pain.
He was simply so exhausted that he might have accepted her offer to ride together only to find a moment's solace — or perhaps just to escape from Irene.
So she mustn't act rashly. She mustn't burden him. If she did, she would be no different from that wretched woman.
And so Anastasia bit her lip and fought down the feelings surging up inside her.
Logan, for his part, was watching Anastasia — barely restraining herself, visibly at a loss — and thinking.
'...Was I too hasty...'
Last night, after much deliberation, he had resolved that if Anastasia wished it, he would strive to answer her feelings.
But was this really the right way to go about it?
Truthfully, he hesitated. Could he really accept her affection unconditionally when he hadn't even fully sorted out his feelings about Irene?
It felt as if he were using her as mere shelter from the storm, and guilt gnawed at him.
'...Anya knows that too, though... that's probably why she's not saying anything.'
To be fair, Anastasia was restraining herself to the utmost for her own reasons — afraid of burdening Logan, afraid of letting some strange nonsense slip out of her own mouth.
But watching her not utter a single word since they'd boarded the carriage, Logan couldn't help but misread it. He assumed she, too, was gauging her distance from him.
He did consider speaking first, but they weren't truly alone — Renate was sitting beside them — and for some reason her expression looked a little fearsome.
And understandably so. A man of lowly birth who had refused the care and favor Anastasia had extended to him all this time, only to act like this now, all for Irene's sake — to her loyal knight, his behavior naturally warranted suspicion.
And so Logan kept as quiet as he could, maintaining his distance.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the carriage.
'Haa....'
Renate, entirely unaware of how stone-hard her own face had become, could only harden her expression further as she sighed inwardly.
'How suffocating...'
Her heart wanted to slip away and leave the two of them to their sweetness. But far too many eyes were watching.
Most people knew that Logan, despite suffering more than anyone, had been on poor terms with the rest of the Hero's Party.
Given that, they could understand — even if it raised some eyebrows — that he had boarded Anastasia's carriage because he wanted to separate from his party members and travel home in peace.
But for the Crown Princess to ride alone in a carriage without her personal guard knight accompanying her? The rumors that would spawn were beyond counting.
That would be devastating for Anastasia, who had to return to the empire and govern its affairs as its future Empress — and it would place a crushing burden on Logan as well.
'Haa... this is when I envy that thoughtless fool Fiona.'
If she could be even a little more easygoing or flexible, the way the boy's own master was, she might have naturally helped bridge these two idiots who were too busy thinking different things to even hold a proper conversation.
'Well... no harm in taking it slow....'
She didn't know what had happened to change things, but it was certain that Logan, belatedly, had turned his heart and was trying to approach Anastasia.
And that was enough.
He would be a great strength to her liege when she returned to the imperial capital and succeeded the throne — a pillar to lean on.
Of course, Logan would be watched warily by plenty of royals and nobles in turn...
'I believe you'll manage it well.'
And so Renate resolved to quietly cheer on and look after these two suffocating souls.
Meanwhile, inside the carriage carrying the Hero's Party.
Irene was seething inside it.
'Logan? Why? Why on earth?'
She simply could not understand it. She had believed that come the next morning, Logan would return to normal, just like always.
They had fought countless times since childhood — over trivial things, sometimes over slightly bigger ones.
Of course, ever since the day Irene lost her parents, there hadn't even been light squabbles; he had simply always yielded to her word, no matter what...
In any case, no matter how bad a fight got, it was Logan who would smooth everything over within a day at most and return to smiling at her, treating her with kindness.
So why. Why hadn't he come back to normal?
And how dare he. How dare he try to be with another woman — one who wasn't her.
'Logan! How could you do this to me?'
She still didn't understand Logan's change, and she had no intention of accepting it. There had never been any need to before.
That tenderness and kindness, always granted exactly as she wished, had been so utterly taken for granted that the very thought of questioning it was impossible for her.
And so every arrow of blame for Logan's sudden transformation had only one place to point.
'This is all... that scheming Imperial Princess's fault!!'
Toward Anastasia.
Logan turning his back on her out of nowhere was simply impossible. And so she had no choice but to believe otherwise.
Irene soon soothed herself.
'The fight with the Demon King must have worn him out, that's all.. Logan, after all...'
He was merely exhausted and confused for the moment — in the end, he would come back to her.
As Irene was lost in these thoughts—
"Irene! Try this. Dried fruit the camp cook gave me yesterday. It's really good!"
Rian held out the bag of dried fruit in his hand. Startled, Irene took it.
"Hm? Ah! Thanks, Rian, hehehe.."
As Rian passed her the bag and gently stroked her hand at the same time, Irene's fury at Logan evaporated entirely.
Yes, Rian had chosen Sera over her — but that must have been a choice forced upon him by his station as Hero.
After all, legend and lore alike had long said that the Hero and the Saintess were destined to be joined.
'It was the Church that made him choose Sera, he had no choice.. Otherwise Rian would never have picked her over me.. See..? Even now he's so attentive to me...'
Sera's eyes narrowed as she watched Irene — and Rian, casually kneading and toying with her hand.
'Haa... what an idiot of a woman... Now would be the time to go beg for forgiveness, but instead... tsk... and this stupid bastard of a Hero really does have a terrible eye for women....'
Sera clicked her tongue inwardly. Things had failed to go the way she'd imagined, in more ways than one.
The Demon King Belzegor had proven far stronger than anticipated — that much, at least, they had overcome thanks to the utterly unforeseen exploits of Logan.
Sera briefly recalled the image of Logan as he saved her when she had been cornered.
'...Maybe I should have thought this through more... No... what matters now isn't what's past...'
It was why Logan's attitude toward Irene had changed.
His devotion — so blind you could have called it foolish, obstinate — had changed overnight. No, more precisely, it had changed suddenly right after the Demon King fell, and she could not fathom why.
'It's definitely not a curse or anything like that...'
Even if Belzegor had cast some curse in his dying struggle, it could not have deceived her eyes.
And just in case, before departing she had briefly examined Logan under the pretense of checking for lingering aftereffects. Nothing was wrong with him at all.
'Then it's simply a change of heart..? No, even so, there's no way...'
That much, Sera was certain of.
When Rian's stubbornness had driven the sacrifices too high, Logan had once come to her, asking her to persuade him.
At that time, she had made him an offer he could not possibly refuse, and...
'He refused me... when I made it that obvious... when I seduced him outright... There's absolutely no way...'
It had to be that way. Otherwise her pride would be wounded all the more. Because—
'There's no way I fall short of the Imperial Princess, is there?'
In looks, in figure, in standing, she lacked for nothing. Which left only one possibility...
'Did the Imperial Princess really pull some kind of trick..? That woman is truly unfathomable...'
All that remained was the conclusion that Anastasia had worked some scheme.
Just what had she done, and how, to bring down that fortress of a man?
Sera began to keep a wary eye on Anastasia, racking her brain over what to do next.
The idiots chattering away inside the carriage, she left alone for the time being.
As the return procession's days stretched on, they reached a suitable campsite and made camp.
Everyone shared the same longing to return to the capital even one day sooner — to be welcomed by the people of the empire, to hold their festival, to bask in glory.
But the campaign had been so grueling that no one pushed themselves to hurry.
And they had already covered a considerable distance; at this pace, they would reach the capital comfortably by midday tomorrow.
That timing was ideal for receiving their welcome and holding the festival, so rather than strain themselves, they had decided to rest at the campsite.
After all, the Demon King and the demons who might have threatened them were gone for good.
So when Logan climbed down from the carriage, he had intended to have at least a brief word with Anastasia—
"KHAHAHA!!! Lad! There's not many chances left to see you, so we've got to share a drink! And this ear-flapper here's been sulking because you never spend any time with her!"
"S-shut up, you dwarf! You're the one who just wants to drink with Logan. Why are you throwing me under the wagon!?"
"Oh? Then it'll be just me and the lad, the two of us—"
"Don't make me laugh!"
Dragged away by the bickering pair of Baldur and Elara as they came clamoring over, Logan had no choice but to put it off.
The two seized an arm each and hauled him off toward the campfire, chattering raucously the whole way.
"...You could join them, Your Highness."
Renate offered the nudge from beside her, but Anastasia pondered for a moment and then shook her head.
"No.. today has been.. enough for me. I don't want to burden Logan any more than I already have."
Watching Logan mingle with Baldur and Elara, she smiled faintly.
Seeing him so at ease with other people put her somewhat at ease as well.
"Haah... as you say, Your Highness."
"Renate...? Is something troubling you? Why the sudden sigh...?"
"Ah — no, Your Highness."
Watching Anastasia tilt her head, Renate couldn't help but sigh inwardly once more.
The boy was a problem in his own right, but her liege was every bit as frustrating — and she found herself wondering whether these two would ever truly find their way to each other.
Just then.
A woman came trudging toward the two of them.
Her eyes blazed with hostility, not even attempting to hide it, and Renate moved to rebuke her — but Anastasia raised a hand and stopped her.
Anastasia's expression was calm, as if she had been expecting this all along.
And before long, Irene drew close, glaring at Anastasia with murderous eyes, and spoke.
"A word, if you would. Your Highness, the Imperial Princess."
