The Day the First Snow Falls (1)
The guild branch chief met Maxim just as he was about to step outside the building. The man’s gaze fell on the crutch tucked beneath Maxim’s left arm and the bandages swathing his entire right limb, and his face folded into an expression of genuine pity.
“Are you sure you’re all right to be moving around? Is it safe for you to go out like this…? If you need help, I can call a couple of adventurers to escort you.”
Maxim shook his head quickly. If he didn’t refuse firmly, the chief looked ready to summon two or three adventurers on the spot. “No, thank you. I appreciate the thought. It will take time, but it isn’t a wound that won’t heal. Besides, sitting in a sickroom all day is unbearably dull. I need to get out once in a while.”
He waved the offer away. The chief’s initial concern had already shifted into open curiosity. The man stroked his thick, bristling beard with one meaty hand.
“I heard your skill was exceptional. For someone like you to be injured this badly, it must have been an extraordinary mission. Does this have anything to do with the Magic Tower and those wretched four-eyed bastards?”
Maxim merely shrugged, offering neither confirmation nor denial.
“Well, I’ll consider them honorable scars. You must have picked up one or two like these during your own adventuring days, Chief.”
The chief gave a hearty laugh and shook his head. “Hardly. I was a coward and an opportunist; I never once behaved in a manner worthy of the title ‘adventurer.’ The worst injury I ever took in the field was a careless slash across the back from a monster I got too close to.”
Which is precisely why you survived long enough to become branch chief, Maxim thought. The man himself smiled, self-mocking yet cheerful.
“Ah, I only meant to say hello and ended up holding you up. Whenever you have the time, please drop by the guild. Whether as a guest or an adventurer, we’ll give you the very best treatment.”
“I will. Thank you.”
They exchanged a final nod. Maxim slipped through the half-open rear door, crutch tapping against the floor. The guild headquarters carried its usual stale odor, yet it brimmed with the warmth of people. Stepping out into the open air made the winter chill bite deeper. With every breath, white vapor curled from his lips.
“Senior.”
Christine had been pacing near the guild’s back entrance. Maxim watched her hurry toward him with short, quick steps. Her cheeks and ears were flushed bright red from the cold. Seeing the reproachful look she turned up at him, he spoke first.
“Sorry I’m late. Let’s wait inside the carriage. Why stand out here in this weather?”
“I didn’t realize saying goodbye to Adeline would take so long. It must have been quite the conversation if it kept you that long, hmm?”
Her tone was lightly barbed. Maxim answered with an awkward smile. If he told her exactly what had happened in Adeline’s room, she would explode.
“Just… this and that.”
“Again with the secrets I’m not allowed to know. Fine. I’m not curious anyway.”
Christine thrust out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. Yet she shortened her stride to match his slow, limping pace. Maxim allowed himself a small, hidden smile.
“The sky was clear earlier. Now it’s suddenly so gloomy.”
When Maxim looked upward, Christine followed his gaze. The heavens were veiled in pale gray clouds. They did not hang heavy like rain clouds; instead they felt quiet, almost weightless. Winter’s particular hue was slowly painting every corner of the royal capital.
“It looks like it might snow,” Christine murmured, blinking up at the sky.
Soon a carriage pulled up, soldier standing at attention beside it. Christine slowed, brow furrowed in evident conflict. Maxim caught the hint and glanced at the waiting vehicle.
“Shall we walk a little longer? I’ll tell the escort to head back first.”
Her face brightened for a moment, then tightened again. She shook her head. “No. I’m happy you offered, but you’re still a patient. What if you push yourself and the wounds reopen?”
“Then you can heal me on the spot. How’s that? I want to walk. The sickroom feels like a cage.”
Christine stared at him, clearly torn between delight and disapproval, before she finally nodded. The desire to stay outside with him a while longer seemed to win out.
“Only a little, though. It’s cold.”
“That’s rich coming from the person who waited for me outside in this cold, pining away.”
“Pining? Who said anything about—” Before she could finish, Maxim had already approached the soldier. He half-listened to her continued protests, told the man he could return alone, and received a respectful nod in reply. The soldier climbed onto the coachman’s seat.
“Please don’t stay out too long. You need to recover fully and return to duty.”
“I know. Thanks for the ride.”
“If you need to go out again, I’ll be at your service.”
With a crisp “Yah!” the carriage clattered away. Maxim turned to Christine, who had drawn up behind him. She gave a reluctant nod that quickly melted into a bright, mischievous grin.
“So, where should we wander first?”
“That street over there. Something smells delicious.”
She carefully slipped her hand around his bandaged right arm and tugged him along. Maxim smiled and followed. The royal capital’s streets, draped in winter gray, were far from somber; they brimmed with life. Children shouted and raced about. The cheerful jingle of bells rang from every corner. Steam rose from food stalls, carrying aromas that made the stomach growl.
“Hah… hot.”
Christine blew on the bread she had bought from a stall. It was topped with baked apple and cheese. One bite in, and cheese already clung to the corners of her mouth. Maxim reached out and gently wiped a smear from her cheek.
“Such a messy eater.”
“I have hands, you know.”
“Yes, yes, and there’s more on your right cheek.”
He held her still and cleaned the rest. Christine could only stand there, cheeks blazing scarlet, while his fingers brushed her skin.
“You’ve lost weight.”
The aftereffects of her long imprisonment beneath the Magic Tower had clearly not vanished. She still needed time to regain her full health. Christine nodded, looking at him.
“I didn’t realize it myself, but they said I was trapped down there for months. It would be strange if I bounced back in just a few days.”
“You’ve suffered more than I knew.”
“Not really. The fact that my mana could be restored at all is miracle enough.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Wait. Why are you saying that after touching my face? Couldn’t you have said something nicer, like my face looks more refined now?”
“I liked the old you better. You had this strange squirrel-like charm.”
Christine’s face flushed deeper. She let out a sharp yelp. For some reason the memory of secretly comparing her own cheeks to Adeline’s made her cringe even harder.
“That was just baby fat! Why would you like that? Are you some kind of pervert?”
“Still, I thought it was cuter back then.”
Christine mumbled something, then heaved a dramatic sigh. The white puff of breath that escaped with it looked absurdly comical.
“Even if I go back to how I looked before, I won’t let you touch my cheeks again. So enjoy my skinny face while you can. It’s different from Adeline’s, right?”
“Why bring Adeline into this? Besides, I’ve never touched her face…”
Wait. Had he?
A fragment of memory from the dungeon flickered through his mind. Please wait a little. He had cupped both of Adeline’s cheeks while she writhed in agony, but that had been an emergency. Surely it didn’t count. Yet his hand still remembered the sensation. Maxim faltered, unable to finish the sentence.
Christine’s gaze turned icy. He swiftly changed the subject, deciding not to examine too closely why he always ended up flustered in front of his junior.
“Anyway, I never said I wanted to touch them. I simply said it looks good.”
At his teasing tone a vein pulsed at Christine’s temple. While he had been away, his shamelessness had apparently grown. He was eating his own bread without a single crumb of cheese on his lips. As if to vent her frustration, Christine buried her face in her bread and took an enormous bite.
“After groping my face and calling it good a minute ago. Whatever. Jerk.”
“Now it’s on your nose too.”
“I’ll wipe it myself.”
They bickered, laughed, and continued walking. Eventually they reached the edge of the central district. Christine complained that her legs hurt and sat on a bench near a small park, thumping her thighs with her fists. The sky remained a sullen gray, undecided whether to snow or not. When Maxim sat beside her, she turned to him.
“Now that I think about it, what exactly happened in the east?”
“We needed a force that could stand against the Count. With the power His Majesty currently possesses, we would have been crushed before we even faced the Benning family.”
Christine’s eyes widened. “So when you said you were going to Count Agon’s lands in the east…”
“Exactly. We needed to recruit the two great eastern nobles.”
She nodded in understanding, then tilted her head. “You managed to persuade them? Count Agon is one thing, but the Margrave wouldn’t have been easy to sway… Did you reveal your true identity?”
“I was lucky. Benning’s subordinates miscalculated.”
As Maxim recounted the events in the east, Christine’s eyes sparkled with interest, but every mention of Marion brought a shadow across her face. She repeated the cycle of fascination and melancholy several times.
“…In the end, Count Agon convinced the Margrave on our behalf, and His Majesty gained allies to oppose Benning’s faction.”
“And Senior heroically rescued his fiancée.”
Marion. She was now serving as the First Princess’s maid in the palace, working diligently. Surprisingly, the things she had learned from the Countess while staying in Murat had helped her adapt quickly. She had earned the princess’s favor. Whenever they met, she wore a warm smile, clearly happy to be useful to someone at last.
“I’m glad Marion has returned to the capital and seems to be doing well. Just as our hearts have changed over time, hers must have changed too.”
Maxim looked up at the sky as he answered. He added, honestly, that he was glad the change had been for the better. Christine stared at him in silence.
“You really are mean, Senior.”
“What?”
“Never mind. I’m glad Miss Marion is doing well too. Shall we walk again?”
She brushed off her trousers and stood. Maxim eyed the strangely resolute smile on her face, tilted his head in mild confusion, and rose as well. They continued along the path.
“As we walked, I realized—this place is definitely…”
Christine looked around at the familiar scenery.
“Near the orphanage. You probably haven’t had a chance to visit, so I led us here on purpose.”
“We ended up here while I was walking without paying attention…”
Christine blinked, then gave him a radiant smile.
“You really are mean.”
“What kind of thing is that to say to the person who brought you here out of consideration? Mean, mean.”
“There are things you just don’t understand, Senior.”
She answered sulkily, but her steps had grown lighter. The cold winter air no longer seemed to trouble her.
“If I’d known we were coming this way, I would have bought a gift.”
“They’ll be happy just to see your face.”
“My heart doesn’t work that way.”
They passed the alley where the large dog had barked last time. An open field stretched before them. The orphanage sat in the middle of the sparsely wooded meadow. Christine stopped and turned to Maxim. With her usual playful expression, she declared:
“I can’t give up.”
“On what?”
When he asked, curious, Christine smiled faintly and turned her gaze back toward the orphanage.
“It’s a secret.”