A Flower Caught on the Tip of a Branch (1)
After defeating the nameless invader and celebrating with the People of the Summit, Chester and Monia returned to their ordinary days.
The first thing they did upon reclaiming their routine was to examine the wreckage of the ships scattered along the beach.
Starting with the cannonballs that had smashed their villa to pieces, they searched the debris for usable planks and pried open crates to inspect whatever lay inside.
As Chester gripped a lid to lift it, the blue-gemmed ring on the ring finger of his left hand caught the light and gleamed beautifully.
“Rum,” he said, peering into the opened crate.
Monia, who had been gathering torn scraps of sailcloth, wandered over, curiosity piqued.
“Rum’s the drink sailors always have, isn’t it? In every opera about seafarers, that’s all they ever drink.”
“Yeah. I don’t really know why they drink it either.”
“Maybe just preference?”
Of course there were practical reasons. High-proof rum never spoiled, making it easy to store. On a sea where fresh water was scarce, liquor could serve as a precious substitute for drinking water—and it doubled as medicine against the diseases that plagued long voyages, scurvy among them.
The vitamin-rich fruit used in its making was what actually prevented scurvy, but sailors who knew nothing of that simply trusted the old wisdom handed down through generations: drink rum and you won’t fall ill.
“Oh my—more than half of them are broken. About ten bottles left? Shall we try one?”
“I heard rum’s pretty strong. You sure?”
Monia, who had already lifted a bottle, startled at his words and hastily set it back in the crate.
On the ring finger of the left hand that had held the rum, a ring set with a red gem—different from Chester’s—flashed.
“H-how strong is strong?”
“Hard to say. The fruit wine on this island packs a punch, but this should be milder, right? Sailors drink it every day.”
“……”
After a moment of thought, Monia spoke with a flushed face and a determined voice.
“W-we’re taking this!”
Her voice trembled a little, whether from embarrassment or something else. Chester looked at her and smiled as if he found her adorable.
“Eek. Wh-what?”
“Nothing. Just…”
“Ah, come on! Say it!”
“Hahaha.”
“Kiiiii!”
Watching Monia tremble and make strange little noises because she couldn’t quite get the words out, Chester laughed heartily and pulled another nearby crate closer.
“Hm? Clothes? The top layer’s… crew uniforms, and they’ve put a board in the middle.”
He took the thin wooden partition that divided the crate into upper and lower levels and twisted it free.
“What’s this?”
Below lay garments far finer than anything a sailor would wear.
Clothes both of them knew all too well. Chester lifted one set out.
“Isn’t this a maid’s uniform?”
“……It is, isn’t it? Wait—why would that be here?”
“Hmm. To put on you, maybe?”
“Hiiik.”
Monia made a face of pure revulsion as she pictured the faceless, nameless captain, then checked the crate and confirmed that maid uniforms in every size were stacked inside.
“……You don’t think there were actually maids on the ship?”
“Probably. They came to fetch you, so there might have been maids and butlers too.”
“Butlers…”
At the word “butler,” Monia suddenly seized the maid uniforms and began yanking them out in a frenzy.
“Huh? What’s wrong?”
“There is! There has to be!”
She draped herself over the rim of the crate, half diving in, and pulled the garment from the very bottom.
“Ta-da!”
It had been at the bottom, so seawater and sand had left it a mess, yet the shape remained intact enough that there was no mistaking what it was.
“That’s—”
“A butler’s uniform!”
Monia shook it out and held it up against Chester.
“Hehe. It suits you!”
“……The fabric feels pretty cheap.”
“Of course it does compared to what we used in the duke’s household! Our butlers’ uniforms cost more than most noble young ladies’ dresses, you know?”
“Why on earth would anyone do that?”
“Ask Daddy the next time you see the old man!”
“I wonder how the duke would feel, on his deathbed, being asked why he spent so much money on butler uniforms.”
“Hehehe, just imagining it is fun!”
Chester and Monia loaded various finds into a net and moved on to the other crates.
“Oh, Chester! Chester! Arrows! There are so many arrows here!”
“Really? Oh, you’re right. Think we can melt the heads down and make something?”
“W-we have to keep some for ourselves!”
“I know. Don’t worry.”
Elsewhere they found everyday necessities.
“What’s this?”
“What is it?”
“N-no, there’s a broken glass bottle. Something was stored in it. More rum?”
Monia carefully sniffed the glass.
“Huh? Weird smell. Perfume?”
“Oh, candles. Nice.”
“Candles? Ah—then this must be a lamp!”
“A lamp that burns candles instead of oil. Any intact ones?”
They dug through the crates until they found a lamp that was mostly whole—only slightly warped.
“Hm? This crate’s already open.”
“Maybe the People of the Summit looked through it?”
“Seems like it. Some of the contents are missing too.”
It was a crate full of miscellaneous odds and ends.
Monia discovered a mirror inside, pulled it out, and began examining herself from every angle.
Chester smirked at the sight and fished a crumpled sheet of paper from a corner of the crate.
Just paper.
He had half hoped for a treasure map, but it was ordinary paper—though the quality looked decent.
Paper’s a luxury item, yet they brought it along.
Paper was rarely needed in daily life; it was closer to a luxury sought only by those who specifically wanted it.
“Not much use for it.”
“Oh, paper. Shall we use it for kindling?”
“It would burn well. Doesn’t weigh much and doesn’t take up space, so let’s keep it for now.”
They took the paper as well.
“We’re taking all the whetstones. We can sharpen our blades properly with these.”
“Chester, isn’t this a tobacco pipe? Do you smoke?”
“No. I tried once. When men talk, lighting up is pretty much standard, so I figured I should know how if I wanted to fit in. Didn’t agree with me, though.”
“Oh-ho. Want to try again?”
“Pass.”
Not every crate on the beach held only daily necessities.
Mixed in among them—though only a few—were trade goods that could be easily converted into money anywhere, prepared in case the expedition needed to resupply at some port.
“Oh, a compass.”
“What’s that for?”
“See the red tip of this needle? It always points north. With this you can tell east, west, south, and north.”
Among those trade goods were many things Monia had rarely encountered.
“Wow! Wow! Amazing! Amazing! Things far away look like they’re right in front of me!”
“Pretty great, right?”
“This is a telescope!”
Dice someone carried for fortune-telling. Cards for idle amusement. A quadrant for watching the stars. And one boot containing a severed foot.
“……Should we at least make a grave?”
“Yeah. We ought to bury the ones in the forest too.”
A modest little grave holding only an ankle appeared on one side of the beach.
Beside it stood the grave that already held Rotin’s body—Urgo had made it before he left.
Instead of a headstone, the cutlass Rotin had carried—the same one Urgo had used in his duel with Chester—was driven into the earth.
Chester gazed at the cutlass, still stained with his own blood, with a strange expression, then turned back to the crates.
They hauled supplies out, carried them away, returned, and hauled more.
Anything that could safely stay on the beach they tossed near the ruins of the villa; the truly rare and precious items they brought home and stored in the warehouse.
“It’s funny when you think about it.”
“Hm? What is?”
“Chester, out of all those crates, the first thing you made sure to grab was a dress for me, wasn’t it?”
“……”
As Chester’s face flushed while he organized goods in the underground storeroom and he fell silent, Monia—peering down from the house into the warehouse entrance—smiled like a cat that had just finished a satisfying meal.
“Hey.”
The ring on Monia’s left hand, resting against her chin, sparkled.
“Chester.”
Slowly, leisurely, she stretched out her hand, stroked his cheek, and asked,
“Which dress did you grab first?”
Feeling the gentle caress of her fingers, Chester stood wordless for a long moment before, with an embarrassed look, he held out a single dress.
“Oh my. Wow. This is……”
Seeing the dress Chester offered, Monia looked mildly surprised, then leaned down and whispered against his ear.
“Beast.”
A soft peck.
She kissed his cheek lightly, took the dress, and vanished upward.
Just before she left, she murmured close to his ear,
“Wait right there a little while, all right?”
After Monia disappeared into the house, Chester stood still for a moment, then picked up the butler’s uniform she had left to one side.