Cat Commotion (1)
The next day, as the warmth of the dawn sun slowly painted the forest that had cooled overnight, Demian left the cathedral.
"Leaving without even having breakfast?" Lowen said as he saw him off.
"Don't say things you don't mean."
"Was it that obvious?"
"I've been watching you for years. You think I wouldn't notice?"
Demian clapped Lowen hard on the back with a hearty laugh. There was real feeling in the blow—something almost wounded. He had come to feel a certain fondness for Lowen, so being shown the door left a bitter taste.
"My apologies."
Even that was only a formality. Demian let out a short snort of breath and shrugged.
"You're leaving earlier than I expected, though."
"I may not look it, but I'm a busy man. The moment I get back, the paperwork waiting for me will be piled higher than the western peaks. And the Second Saintess has such a packed schedule that I have to accompany her, so I'll be busy again. There was a time when I had a capable attendant, and life was good."
Demian shot Lowen a pointed look.
"I am not Your Eminence's attendant."
At Lowen's firm reply, Demian only smirked as if he already knew.
"Ah! Nearly forgot!"
Something seemed to occur to him. Demian stopped and reached into his pocket.
"I almost left without giving you this."
He drew out a single letter—a pink envelope sealed with a yellow dandelion stamp. The moment Lowen saw the seal, he knew exactly who had sent it.
"She asked that you be sure to write back."
"Mm... I'll reply once I've sorted out where I stand."
"She'll understand even if it takes a while."
Lowen accepted the letter and slipped it into his pocket.
"Will your next visit be around this time as well?"
"Ah, next time someone else will come. Nothing's been decided for certain, but the cardinals will take turns, or perhaps the one who used to attend the Seventh Saintess will visit. In any case, don't worry too much. They're all good fellows—nothing that should put much of a burden on you."
Not the most reassuring words. By Demian's standards, "good fellows" usually meant people with rather strong personalities.
"You already know a few of them, don't you?"
Of the fourteen cardinals, excluding Demian, Lowen had met three during his days as an escort knight. None of them had particularly impressed him—one rigid stickler, one who cackled over the smallest things, and one who was simply gloomy. Deeply devout and decent enough as people, but not the sort he cared to grow close to.
"I'll come again if I get the chance. Next time we can share a glass of wine."
Demian raised an imaginary wine glass in toast.
"Understood."
"You've quit smoking, but not drinking?"
"I never could hold my liquor well. Hardly any need to quit something I barely drink."
Demian laughed heartily, as if remembering.
"That's right—you always were a terrible drinker for a man your size."
Listening to Demian's one-sided reminiscing about old drinking sessions, they soon reached the edge of the forest. A Papal Court carriage waited for him, its sides marked with light-patterns that radiated in every direction.
"Thank you for walking me this far."
Before climbing aboard, Demian gave Lowen's shoulder a couple of firm pats.
"Look after the Saintess well."
With those final words, Demian boarded the carriage. The moment he was inside, it set off.
"Haa..."
From today until next spring, Lowen was Ariel's official guardian.
By the time he returned to the cathedral, the sun was already high in the eastern sky. The place was quiet. All he could hear was the rustle of a breeze through the trees and the distant chirping of morning birds hunting for food. No matter how he strained his ears, there was no soft murmur of prayer.
"Still asleep, is she?"
Lowen went to Ariel's bedroom.
Knock, knock.
"Saintess, it's morning."
He knocked and called to her, but no answer came.
"I'm coming in."
If he didn't wake her, she would sleep until noon. After a few more knocks, Lowen entered. Ariel was curled around a pillow nearly as large as her own torso, still fast asleep. She had already changed out of her pajamas into her nun's habit—she must have woken early, confirmed that Demian had left, and then crawled straight back into bed.
"Saintess, time to get up."
Lowen poked her shoulder.
"Mmh... uuu... just a little longer... I'm still sleeping..."
Ariel curled into a tighter ball like a pill bug and buried her face in the pillow.
"We have to go to the village at midday, so please get up."
"Huum... don't... do that..."
"Anyone listening would think I was bullying the Saintess."
"If you bully me... that's... bad..."
She showed no sign of rising.
"Then I suppose I have no choice."
He had been asked to cure her laziness and turn her into a proper, diligent Saintess. That meant he needed to be strict about the things that required fixing.
"I'll be having breakfast alone, then."
Still face-down in the pillow, Ariel gave a little nod as if that was fine by her.
"Pancakes with sweet syrup poured over them, no less."
"Huh...? Pan... cakes...?"
"And the fruit salad the village auntie gave us. I'll have to eat that by myself as well."
"Fruit...?"
The tightly curled ball of a girl slowly sat up, rubbing her sleepy eyes, and greeted him.
"Bishop Lowen... haaaawn... good morning."
Still half-asleep, Ariel shook her head from side to side and wriggled her body as if trying to wake herself up.
"Let's go eat pancakes... ehehe..."
She combed her mussed hair with her fingers, then looked up at him with a shy little smile. It was the same adorable face a puppy makes when it wakes up, spots its owner nearby, and wags its tail with a bright grin.
"Before that, let me tie your hair."
Lowen picked up the red ribbon lying on the bed and gathered her hair into a single tail that hung like a fox's brush.
"Bishop Lowen, you're good at tying hair too?"
Ariel tipped her head back to look up at him.
"I used to tie my little sister's hair every day when we were children. I suppose it just became second nature."
"You have a little sister?"
Lowen only nodded, a faint smile lingering at the corners of his mouth.
"Thank you for the meal!"
Ariel's eyes sparkled at the sight of the three-layer stack of pancakes. Golden-brown surfaces glistened where wine-and-sugar syrup had been poured over them, and a pat of butter sat melting in the center. The aroma alone was no joke—the sweet scent of the syrup mingled with a gentle tickle of cinnamon at the back of the nose. On top of that, the bright fragrance of strawberries in the fruit salad banished every last trace of sleepiness.
"Haum... uuum~!"
After taking a big bite, Ariel cupped her cheeks with both hands and swayed happily as the sweetness spread through her mouth. Just watching her was enough to lift a person's spirits. Seeing a reaction like that made the cook feel proud.
"That was delicious!"
The meal vanished in no time.
"Saintess, I'm going into the village to do some shopping. What would you like to do?"
They had gone shopping a few days earlier as well, and Ariel had stayed behind at the cathedral then. She sometimes came along, but more often she remained at home.
"Would you like to come with me?"
Ariel thought hard. She had grown used to the village and its people, but she still disliked being stared at by many eyes at once. Should she stay at the cathedral again today? If she stayed alone, though, she knew perfectly well she would only end up masturbating to kill the boredom until Lowen returned.
"I'll come with you."
She would hold back. Her vow had already been growing fuzzy of late. She had sworn to try to free herself from lust, yet with each passing day the resolve had grown more half-hearted, and the frequency of her self-pleasure—which she had been reducing—had started climbing again. Yesterday Demian's presence had kept her from touching herself, and she was aching to release even once, but she forced herself to remember the vow and decided to follow Lowen instead.
Wind-shelter Village was full of life. The people in the streets looked healthy, their faces bright with energy. Instead of the habitual sighs they used to heave, they hummed under their breath. Shoulders that had once been hunched were now straight, putting real strength into their work. At the mouth of an alley, innocent children were running and playing as always, and even the ones who used to wander the streets alone had joined in. In the tavern that opened early each morning, curses against the world had been replaced by full bellies and lively talk of today's plans or yesterday's happenings.
"Bishop, Saintess, good day to you!"
The guard at the village entrance saluted Lowen and Ariel in a strong, clear voice. Lowen returned a light nod; Ariel answered with a warm "Hello" and offered a short prayer that the blessing of light would be with the man in his duties.
They headed straight for the market. From one side came the smell of roasted chicken that made even a full stomach growl as if it were empty; from the other, fresh vegetables and cuts of meat set the mind to planning dinner. Merchants who spotted Lowen and Ariel as they passed called out, "Try a sample of this!" "Fresh meat caught today—take some!" "It goes well with vegetables too!" and tried to press goods on them. Each time, Ariel slipped half-hidden behind Lowen while he smiled good-naturedly, either politely declining or paying for what he took.
"Come to think of it, we're out of milk as well."
Milk was an essential for Ariel. She knew her growth plates had already closed, yet she still clung to the tiny hope that she might grow a little taller. She was content with how she looked, but height was something she wanted more of.
They bought what they needed one item at a time and were on their way to get the milk last when a small voice rose from one corner of the market.
"Darong! Darong!"
A little girl was calling desperately for someone, her voice thick with tears. The moment Ariel saw she needed help, she turned on her heel and went to her.
"What's the matter?"
"Saintess...! Darong... Darong is gone...!"
Ariel soothed her, telling her to calm down.
"Take a deep breath and tell me slowly. Who is Darong?"
From the name alone, it clearly wasn't a person.
"M-my cat...!"
The instant the word "cat" left the girl's mouth, Lowen's temple twitched. His instincts told him exactly what was coming: they were about to spend the rest of the day rushing all over the village looking for a cat.
The girl explained. She had opened the window to water the flower box on the sill, and the cat she kept had bolted straight out and vanished.
"Don't worry too much. I'm sure we'll find him."
Where the confidence came from, Lowen had no idea, but Ariel's voice was full of certainty that they would recover the cat. He couldn't help wondering whether she was planting false hope—and what she planned to do if they failed to find it after saying something like that.
"We'll help you look. Searching with more people will be better than looking alone."
While comforting the girl, Ariel shot Lowen a sidelong glance. The look in her eyes clearly said, Bishop Lowen will help search too, right? There was no way he could refuse that gaze. Even if he did, Ariel would simply declare she would help by herself.
"All right. We'll look together."
Lowen gently stroked the little girl's hair.