Love Without Reason
Until we left the tent, Kruggle remained sprawled on the ground, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. If only he had known when to back down earlier, none of this would have happened. How stubborn. Now he would be blacklisted, unable to conduct any business with the major trading companies in Amusbian.
Well, all things considered, it was for the best. From a broader perspective, we had simply weeded out one swindler, and for the man himself, it would have been better to quit entirely rather than continue with such reckless behavior.
However.
“Come on, hurry up!”
From my position, what did this mean?
“Y-yes, I understand.”
As I had said, he was one of my greatest nightmares. It was no exaggeration—whenever I dreamed of that time, I would wake up screaming, the sheets soaked through with cold sweat.
Even when I dreamed of Rofena escaping or the Demon King reviving and piercing my heart, I never screamed like that.
“My tent is over there.”
But if someone were to ask whether I hated the very person who was the protagonist of that nightmare, I would shake my head without hesitation. Why else would I bother setting up barriers around my body and bed every single night instead of simply changing rooms?
I did not hate him. As I had said, he was like the sun, and I respected him. I was grateful that he still held affection for me. Of course, thinking back to that day still sent a shiver down my spine like basilisk scales, but that was beside the point.
“Come on, get in!”
Like an innocent girl, he pulled me into his tent. The atmosphere inside was completely different from our dormitory days. Back then it had been neat and orderly, yet still carried a hint of roughness and masculinity. Now it was filled with dainty ornaments and warm, brightly colored fabrics—purely girlish in sensibility.
“You still like Antares, right?”
Antares. The first wine I had ever tasted, and the very thing that had caused that incident. Logically, I should never have touched it again, but…
“…Well, yes.”
I still liked it. After saving the world, I had tasted all sorts of wines and liquors at parties and as gifts, but none matched my preferences in aroma, flavor, or the way it went down like this red wine, Antares.
“It’s just too expensive for me to enjoy often.”
It was not as though I lacked money. Most of the spoils we had obtained had gone toward rebuilding the Ayman Kingdom and aiding refugees from the great war, but I had quietly set aside a considerable amount along with Denatel’s workshop.
I hoped that did not make me seem too materialistic. After all, Rowell and the others were never the type to cling to wealth, and they had already possessed more than enough to begin with.
Rowell had originally been a noble, Medrup was an archmage, Orcan a chieftain, Lauti a saintess, Aegina a princess, and Bagloros the world’s strongest assassin. For them, wealth was something they only needed in moderation—an inexhaustible well as long as they did not draw too much. But I was different. I had been a commoner. My well had never been full to begin with, let alone inexhaustible. That was why I had to secure enough to keep it from running dry.
Even so, if I considered only the monetary value, drinking Antares every night would not have been impossible. The problem was that such expensive wine never reached our village in the first place.
“Then how about I give you a few casks to take with you? As a gift.”
It was a genuinely tempting offer, but I decided to refuse. Casks, not bottles. I was not that shameless.
“No, there’s no need for that.”
“Why not? The harvest in the Sartia Kingdom was good this year, so I was able to get high-quality Antares at a reasonable price. A few casks won’t be a problem.”
An awkward silence fell, thick with obvious conflict.
Yes, no matter how much I tried to deny it, I was weak to material desires.
“…Then I’ll gratefully accept.”
“Good. You shouldn’t refuse sincerity, especially when it’s from me.”
He smiled softly, with a hint of playfulness. I was certain that if I had never seen him naked—if I had not witnessed that shocking scene—my heart might have been swayed by that smile.
“Now, have a seat.”
He sat me at the table and went to the display shelf to retrieve wine glasses and a bottle of Antares. Well, a few glasses would not hurt. My tolerance had improved since then, after all.
“By the way, how long has it been since we last did this? Ten years already?”
“Thirteen years, to be precise. Several years have passed since the great war ended.”
“Right. And in all that time, you never once came to see me?”
Even knowing he was only teasing, the slight drop in his tone sent cold sweat trickling down the back of my neck.
“And if we hadn’t run into each other today, you were planning to just leave without meeting me, weren’t you?”
“Of course not.”
Could a lie that the other person already knew was a lie still be called a lie? It was less a falsehood and more an agreed-upon part of the conversation’s flow.
“Right, of course not.”
Smiling playfully, he handed me a glass. I accepted it with a light laugh of my own. But the moment I took it, Julian’s hand gently caught my wrist.
“……!”
Startled, I looked up. His smiling mouth contrasted with the faintly lonely look in his eyes.
“Honestly, every year when I come here, I’ve thought about seeking you out myself. It’s not that far from your village. But no one likes a woman who clings too much, right?”
For a moment, the earnestness in his voice took my breath away. Was this not too cruel? The first person in my life to show me such unwavering affection, and he had to be a man.
“…Please keep the jokes to a reasonable level. You’re a man, Senior.”
I had meant it lightly, but it came out sounding rather cold.
Still, it could not be helped. Faced with those eyes, that voice, and that impossibly gentle touch, I had no room to choose my words carefully.
“Well, that’s true.”
I glanced at him anxiously, but he only smiled and released my hand. Even so, the emotion flickering in his eyes could not be hidden, no matter how hard he tried.
“Besides, you’re popular, Senior. Whether men or women, there are plenty of others besides me.”
“But the only one I want is you.”
So why did the person saying such things have to be a man?
“…By the way, Senior, I still don’t understand. Why me, of all people?”
I still could not comprehend it. Of course, I could never truly understand love between the same sex, but even if he were an ordinary woman, I would not have understood.
Why me?
As I had said, I had never once been popular with the opposite sex in my entire life. And that was only natural. Unlike Rowell, I was not the kind of person who could be popular.
Of course, these days Rofena seemed to harbor excessive goodwill toward me, but that was nothing more than an illusion created by circumstance. Under normal conditions, her affection would never have been directed at me.
Yet Julian had shown me the same unwavering goodwill and affection from that day until now. Setting aside the fact that I could not return those feelings, I simply could not understand it.
If I had been a woman, my heart would never have turned toward someone like me. It would naturally have gone to people like Rowell or Julian. I would never have spared a glance for a faint firefly standing beside a brilliant sun.
So why?
He smiled at my question—the same smile he always wore whenever I asked this.
“Oh, Anak. After all this time and everything that’s happened, do you still think love needs a reason? That it requires qualifications?”
Of course. Look at Rowell and Aegina. Two noble souls meeting to form the most perfect love. Look at Orcan. A charming and courageous man winning both love and beauty.
Look at him. Countless men and women drawn to the sunlight kneel before him in worship.
Love has reasons. And before that, it requires qualifications.
To those without qualifications, love is nothing more than a futile flame flickering only in their own chest. It is a foolish desire, an empty wish that can never be granted.
Or else a lie that deceives both oneself and the other.
“Of course it does.”
“No, Anak. Love needs neither reason nor qualification.”
He tilted the bottle and filled my glass with Antares.
“There may be a catalyst, of course. You could even attach a reason to it if you insisted. But it is not only that. It is not merely those things.”
He filled his own glass as well and brought it closer. As I moved to raise mine, he did not wait and lightly clinked his glass against mine.
“But you won’t be convinced. You never have been.”
He took a small sip, barely wetting his lips, then continued.
“So I’ll give you one reason you might actually accept.”
Even though I was not drunk, the sight of those eyes and slightly moistened lips suddenly seemed so charming that I wanted to smack my own head. Still, I focused on what he would say next. Perhaps this long-standing mystery would finally be solved. But the playful smile had already returned to his lips.
“You’re quite charming, Anak. It’s just that other women haven’t noticed yet.”
How anticlimactic. It was the same thing he always said.
“Haah, I suppose so.”
I took a sip. The distinctive aroma of Antares spread through my mouth and slid smoothly down my throat.
“Hehe, I wondered if you might have changed after everything that happened, but I’m glad you’re still the same.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.”
Overwhelmed by the affection filling his eyes, I took another sip. He stared at me in silence for a long while before asking carefully.
“…The great war. It was hard, wasn’t it?”
It was an ordinary question. One I had heard many times before. Yet somehow, those words felt like they were piercing my heart. Was it because of that cautious, worried voice, or had I really gotten drunk after only a few sips?
“Well, compared to me, the others had it much harder. Unlike Rowell and the rest, I was just……”
“Anak.”
Even though I had spoken with a perfectly natural smile, he cut me off at once.
“You don’t need to say things like that. No matter what anyone else went through, you suffered plenty too. And you tried your best.”
Those eyes. Did he know? Well, it was possible. It was not widely known, but it was not exactly a secret either.
“…Did you hear about it?”
Only after finishing did I realize my voice had come out heavier than necessary.
“No.”
He slowly shook his head.
“But if it was you, you would have hidden your pain alone. Not for anyone else’s sake, but because you thought you had to.”
“……”
It was an exact insight. As expected of him. Or perhaps I was a far simpler person than I thought.