Karen Florence (8)
By the time Karen Florence finished purchasing her gift, the sun was already drooping toward evening. She wore the look of someone thoroughly satisfied with how her day had gone, while I was, without exaggeration, a wretched sight. I doubted anyone else in this world fit the phrase "being around her drains the life right out of you" quite so perfectly — and thanks to her, I had spent an unexpectedly eventful day.
"Wow, it's been ages since I had this much fun! Let's come again sometime, Lucy!"
"I would be grateful if you never called for me again after today."
"What, how cold! Didn't we get a little closer today?"
"I don't believe we did."
"But you had fun, right?"
"Only Miss Karen Florence, who got to buy a gift for Young Master Rihardt, could possibly have enjoyed herself."
"Aww, look at you getting all shy!"
Absurd. I narrowed my eyes until my brows slanted into a proper scowl. Who, exactly, is blushing here?
"So you're the shy type, huh, Lucy?"
It was the first time in my life I had heard such a thing. I let her words slip out one ear and turned my attention to the object cradled in my arms — the "gift" meant for Rihardt. Judging by the luxurious box, it couldn't be a bulky item. A ring, perhaps, or a necklace?
On what basis did I speculate so? A gift given on a rare occasion like this would surely be something the giver hoped her beloved would use for years to come. She would have chosen something enduring over a mere consumable — and something that small? Nine times out of ten, it was an accessory.
You helped pick it out yourself, so why are you acting like you don't know? Because I genuinely didn't. Karen had declared that until Rihardt received the gift, the secret was to be kept absolutely sacred, and she had been guarding it jealously ever since.
Then why did she drag me along at all? Hadn't I been brought to help gather opinions on what to give Rihardt? At this point, I could only conclude that Karen had simply wanted someone to accompany her — a fairly reasonable suspicion, I thought.
Well, seeing as it meant slipping away from Rihardt and getting to breathe for once, it wasn't all that ba—
The day's events flashed through my mind like a panorama, and I could not bring myself to call today anything but bad. I had been run so ragged my stamina was utterly spent.
Karen, fully recharged after lunch? A being I never wanted to cross paths with again in this life. If I were ranking them, she would land right below Rihardt. Call it the difference between suffering mentally and suffering physically — though forced to choose one, I would still take Karen's company over Rihardt's.
Anyway — had my lingering gaze looked that suspicious? Karen, watching me, wound herself up into full alert.
"Stare all you want with that curious face. I'm not telling."
Watching her bristle like a hedgehog, I let out a hollow laugh.
"I am not the least bit curious what gift you plan to give Young Master Rihardt, Miss Karen Florence. Not one bit."
"You say that, but you're dying to know, aren't you?"
"Not at all."
Even said flatly and firmly, she refused to believe me.
"Enough. Shall we go retrieve the horse you left behind?"
At my words, a crescent moon hooked itself onto the corner of Karen's mouth.
"You won't go bursting into tears this time, will you, Lucy?"
A remark that scraped a man's pride raw. I drew one careful breath before answering — my voice could not be allowed to tremble.
"When did I ever do that."
"You so did."
"Lies and fabrication, second nature to you, I see."
"The nerve of you!"
Just who is the shameless one here? I may once have had moisture welling at the corners of my eyes from sheer shock, but I had never once cried.
"Before that, Miss Karen — do you have no awareness that you handle your horse rather roughly?"
"Huh? Roughly? I'm plenty nice to Pli!"
Pli. Presumably the pet name of this brown horse. Unable to fathom where one would even begin cataloguing her crimes, I simply shook my head.
"What would be the point of saying it."
And so, trading idle banter, we retrieved the horse we'd left at a nearby stable. Karen Florence hopped up lightly, set one foot in the stirrup, and swung herself into the saddle in a single unbroken motion — not an ounce of waste in the whole sequence.
Was she actually a nun? Ah, right — a battle nun.
"Here."
Hand outstretched from atop Pli, Karen waited. With no hope of mounting as jauntily as she did, I had no choice but to take the offered hand.
Whoosh!
And just like that, I felt myself lifted — a floating sensation much like stepping into an elevator. Karen Florence had hoisted me, cargo that I was, onto the saddle with a single hand.
Her strength is terrifying. I worried she might yank too hard and pop my arm from its socket, or tear something in my shoulder. Fortunately, Karen Florence was not so witless as to miss such a danger; she handled her body with real finesse.
"No crying this time — and hold on tight to my waist, okay?"
That smug little smile of hers is loathsome.
"I have never cried."
I fired back, and gripped Karen Florence's waist firmly. At the kick of her heels against the stirrups, Pli began to advance, and the surrounding scenery whisked past at the horse's tempo. I stared at the back I was clinging to. Small as her frame was, the girl felt remarkably solid — and a creeping sense of guilt toward Karen Florence crawled up my spine.
Thanks to Karen's dazzling horsemanship, we reached the Line Count's estate in short order. I made straight for Rihardt's room — since he would only summon me later anyway, it seemed better to present myself in person. Karen, of course, trailed along. From the look of it, she had somehow managed to conceal her gift so that Rihardt would not spot it.
I knocked on Rihardt's door and spoke evenly.
"It's Lucifer. Are you in, Young Master?"
"Oh, you're back?"
"Miss Karen Florence wishes to speak with you alone, Young Master."
"Is that so? Send her in."
Karen Florence dipped her head to me, lightly. Her own way of saying thanks, I supposed — though it struck me as odd to be thanked over something so trivial.
Their conversation was neither brief nor lengthy. When a decent stretch of time had passed, the closed door swung open, and the red-haired girl emerged looking thoroughly invigorated.
"Have you finished your business, Miss Karen Florence?"
"Yep, all thanks to you!"
Karen's face was bright as she answered.
"And have you delivered the gift proper—"
A small palm slammed over my lips like a trap. Then her eyes darted quickly around Rihardt's room — a reflex against the chance that he might have overheard.
"Shh! I haven't given it yet! I'm biding my time!"
With my mouth sealed there was nothing to be said, so I answered with a nod. Karen cleared her throat — ahem, ahem — squared her shoulders, and winked her left eye at me.
"So I'll see you this evening, Lucy."
...This evening?
I sent Karen a puzzled look.
"There's such a thing."
She left those cryptic words behind and quickened her pace down the hall. She had already made it that far in so little time — proof, I supposed, of how well I'd kept up with her pace today.
I was entertaining that idle thought when Rihardt's voice reached me.
"Lucy, come in."
"Yes."
I opened the door and stepped inside to find Rihardt seated in a chair with a book in hand. Eyes red as melted rubies, gleaming with something uncanny, lifted from the page toward me.
"Pffft."
Confronted with my disheveled state — a far cry from how neatly I had left — Rihardt burst out laughing. And as that frivolous laughter rang in my ears, I could savor the sensation of heat spreading through my entire body.
"Exhausting, trailing after her all day, hm?"
Apparently I looked as dreadful as all that, if even Rihardt was saying such things. I didn't bother denying it.
"It was."
"I'd hoped we might have a little conversation... but you're hardly in any state for it."
I gave no reply, though I agreed with him entirely. He waved a hand, granting me dismissal.
"Wash up first. And change into fresh clothes."
"Thank you for your consideration, Young Master."
"Consideration? Hardly. I've no taste for keeping a reeking maid at my side. And from now on, there's no need to come straight to my room like this — tidy yourself up properly before you present yourself."
His reprimand embarrassed me a little. I had sweated all day long like a piece of boiled pork, so of course my scent would hang thick about me.
"Is it really that foul?"
"Ah, no — it isn't that your scent is unpleasant, Lucy. If anything, I'd happily keep smelling it forever."
At those words, the contents of today's meals nearly surged back up my throat. I started to aim a queasy look at Rihardt, then forced it down — but I couldn't hide it entirely, and he followed up with a remark I couldn't tell was earnest or in jest.
"If Lucy's all right with it, may I take a nice, long, unhurried whiff of you sometime later?"
That one, I could not manage my expression against at all. And as though beholding my crumpled face had been his true objective all along, Rihardt laughed once more.
I hope you die. Painfully, if at all possible.
"...Then, as you command, I shall go and wash."
"Ah, before you do — Karen tells me she's departing for the church this evening."
Not tomorrow morning — tonight? With her formidable body, moving by night was surely no more dangerous than by day, but still. And here I'd thought she'd stay at least a few more days. Either way, to me it was a thunderbolt out of clear skies.
"Is that so."
"She's gone to pay her respects to Father and Mother just now, apparently."
So that was why she'd been moving so fast. Why leave now, of all times? She could have dragged her feet a little longer. A wave of dizziness washed over me.
Rihardt gave a light shrug.
"Oh, right. Karen asked when I'd be receiving my splendid gift, seeing as she's leaving. Now what am I to do? I haven't prepared a thing, you see."
...That bastard. To begin with, his "splendid gift" was nothing more than a dank excursion to the basement.
I wrestled my expression into place and replied.
"I request that you unlock the outside passage connected to the basement."
"Aha, so you'll be luring her in that way? And how exactly did you figure that out? More importantly — do you know where the outside passage is?"
"I do."
He met my eyes with an expression positively brimming with gleeful anticipation.
"And do you have a method for coaxing Karen into it?"
"That I will handle myself."
"Good. Anyway, I've held you long enough, haven't I? Off you go and wash up."
His words said go wash up, but they amounted to don't bother washing. With time this tight, as if I could possibly manage a proper bath — right? I turned toward the stable where Karen had left her horse. After all, it was the one place she could not pass by if she meant to leave this estate.