The Uninvited Guest (1)
Utekwai guffawed as he watched the mercenaries slink away.
“Zui, zui! Run like dogs with their tails between their legs!”
Leaving that booming laughter behind us, I hurried on my way. The soldiers of Longville, their eyes filled with something between awe and wariness, receded like an ebbing tide.
At the well in the manor's back garden, I hastily hauled up a bucket of water.
Splash.
Cold wellwater washed the blood away and cooled the fever burning under my skin…
“Haa, haa.”
Panting, I slumped onto a long wooden bench. By the time my breathing had steadied, my thoughts drifted back to that voice.
A voice steeped in mockery — or egging me on. An unpleasant voice.
But what troubled me wasn't the unpleasantness. It was that the voice didn't feel the least bit unfamiliar, and that tangled my thoughts into knots.
"Hooo…… trembling knees and a dock humming with the stench of blood. A thirsting night and a narrow, dark salt cellar. A bright dawn and a held-back breath."
"That hot breath. A breath drowning in rapture. Yes. Why only now—"
“Foi?”
“Ellen.”
Ellen swept into the back garden, the hem of her robe flaring, and came toward me with her expression frozen stiff.
“Your face… are you all right?”
“……No.”
She wasn't alone.
“Oh—”
The wizard Master Castlight, with her gentle, unassuming face, met my eyes and gave an awkward smile.
“Umm, well, I, that is—”
“I sh-should be going. Ah—Lady Baroness, I heard she collapsed? I ought to prepare some medicine for her, so……”
Stammering through her excuse, she pulled a face on the verge of tears.
When I simply stared at her in silence, Ellen swallowed dryly and stepped in.
“Go on, hurry. It's fine here.”
“Oh, how kind of you—”
Master Castlight fled the back garden as if running for her life.
Ellen approached me, her face still rigid.
“What's wrong? What happened?”
Her blue eyes brimmed with worry. A pale white hand reached out and stroked my face.
Only then did I realize my face wore no expression at all.
Phoenix's features run cold by nature; he's supposed to smile as often as he can. I keep forgetting that.
“Foi.”
I put on the familiar smile.
“I'm fine. How did the errand go?”
“You're clearly not fine.”
“You know that reagent — the Verification Reagent, or whatever it was called? Did you try it?”
Ellen, who had been peering into my eyes with a worried look, slowly furrowed her brow.
“……Spit it out. Stop dodging the question.”
Not a chance.
“Why do you keep asking? I told you I'm fine.”
“Something obviously happened. Do you take me for an idiot?”
“Aren't you?”
“Hey!”
“Ow, loud.”
When I kept dancing around the subject, she shut her mouth.
Then she simply glared at me with a face that screamed I'm mad at you!
I scratched at my brow in silence.
“It's just…”
“Just what?”
“My head's a bit of a mess, that's all.”
“A bit of a mess warrants that face?”
“What face?”
At my counter-question, Ellen hesitated for a moment, then shook her head.
“Whatever. Quit being so aggravating and just tell me.”
…Ellen's gotten even more stubborn since her confession back at the lodge. Or maybe it's just my imagination.
Worn down by her relentless badgering, I finally spilled everything.
“A strange voice…”
Ellen, deep in thought, glanced around and lowered her voice.
“…Could it be because of that soul?”
“Soul?”
“You said a soul from another dimension took root in you, and its memories flowed in with it.”
“Ah, that…”
When I trailed off, she spoke with startling conviction.
“That's probably it. Memories exert a monstrous influence on the mind.”
“I suppose so, but—”
“Did you ever hear voices like that before you absorbed the soul?”
“Before?”
Before I absorbed the soul, she said.
Even in my days as Kim Seung-soo, I had heard strange voices before. But those were a little different from this one. Different in origin. Different in direction…
“You don't remember?”
“……Hard to say.”
My memories as Phoenix were still hazy. Things I'd learned and felt through training, the facts of my house — those were relatively clear. Everything else remained incomplete.
All that surfaced were walls raised on every side, bristling with sharp thorns.
“I really couldn't say.”
Ellen pondered briefly, then declared:
“I'll fix it for you.”
“……What? How?”
She flashed a meaningful smile at my question.
“I'll show you tonight.”
“Mm. Looking forward to it.”
…Show you tonight, look forward to it?
“Uh, show me what?”
By the time I'd finished wrestling down the demon in my head, Ellen had already left the garden.
On the way back to my room, a young maid was waiting for me in the corridor.
“The task is done, my lord.”
“The one you asked for this morning.”
“……Ah, right.”
When I glanced around, the maid, quick on the uptake, added softly:
“She's inside the room.”
“Oh, good. Thanks.”
“And, here's your change…”
When the maid fumbled out a silver coin and a few scattered coppers, I smiled and plucked up the silver.
“Buy yourselves something tasty with the rest.”
“Oh! Thank you, my lord.”
Leaving the beaming young maid behind, I stepped into my room.
The swordswoman inside — no, Mungchi — bowed her head low.
“Nice to be meetin' you.”
“…Yeah. Good to see you too.”
Fighting the urge to laugh at her stiff greeting, I looked her over.
A short outer jacket fitted with several buckles down the front, a cotton-woven beige shirt, loose trousers, leather boots that came up past her ankles. Exactly what I'd asked for: clean and comfortable.
“Cute.”
“E-eh?!”
“Is it the proportions? It really suits you.”
“Th-that's not…”
Mungchi lowered her gaze and fidgeted with the hem of her jacket.
“Need anything else?”
“No. Got ev'rythin'.”
I shed my armor and sat on the edge of the bed.
“So. What do you want to do now?”
“Do… how?”
“You'll have to choose a road. Don't you want to go home?”
No sooner had the question left my mouth than she shook her head.
“Nope. Not goin' home.”
“…That was fast. Then what do you want to do?”
She fumbled for a long while without producing an answer. Her eyes darting this way and that, her fingers picking ceaselessly at the hem of her jacket — it was pitiful to watch, in a way that made my chest ache.
“…If I follow you, den?”
“What?”
“If I follow, where do we go?”
A momentary vertigo seized me, and I asked her back.
“Did you just call me master?”
“…Ah.”
She shot me a sidelong glance.
“Master… is not allowed?”
“Of course it's not. Call me by name.”
“Ehh…”
Disappointment clouded her eyes. But only for a moment — then something seemed to dawn on her, and they lit up and glittered.
Gulp.
Swallowing loudly, Mungchi carefully opened her mouth.
“……Foi?”
And then she searched my face for my reaction.
“Ahem.”
Suppressing the laughter that kept trying to force its way out of my mouth, I nodded.
“Mm. If that's more comfortable for you, call me that.”
“Hee.”
Mungchi broke into a grin and nodded back. The way she clasped her hands together and bounced on her heels was a bonus.
…Oh, for crying out loud. She's adorable.
When she'd been Mungchi — the piglet, that is — I used to tease her constantly, and the memory made my hands itch to do it again.
“Mmm.”
No. Get a grip, Kim Phoenix! Mungchi is a grown woman now, not a piglet. Pinching her nose, folding her ears, burying my face in her belly — none of that is allowed anymore.
…Come to think of it, I even bathed with her once. Ha. Insane. How embarrassing, all over again.
While I drifted off into stray thoughts, Mungchi, still bouncing on her heels, spoke up out of nowhere.
“Wanna go wif Foi.”
“Hm?”
“Wanna go, wif Foi.”
“You want to come with me?”
An energetic nod.
“Yes. Me, strong.”
“…I'm sure you are. But do you even know where I'm going?”
She faltered for a moment, then shook her head side to side.
“Don', know.”
“And yet?”
“And yet? Wanna go together.”
“Why?”
She stopped bouncing and stood stock-still, taking a long time to choose her words.
“Don' know. Jus', do.”
“'Just do' — what does that mean?”
“Why 'just do'.”
“You're saying there's no reason?”
“Yes.”
Just as before, Mungchi's eyes glittered black as starlight.
“Me… like Foi.”
A few clumsy words and a gaze fixed straight on me were more than enough to feel the sincerity in them.
“Wanna go. Together.”
The baseless, reasonless trust, affection, and longing flowing from her heart straight into mine — I couldn't help but smile.
“All right. Let's go, together.”
“Hee.”
Her small lips bit down gently on a smile of their own.
Sitting across from Mungchi, chatting about this and that, I hadn't noticed the sun climbing well past its zenith. I was just thinking it was about time to eat when a soldier came with news.
“…Someone's here?”
“The second son of Count Tristan has arrived. Sir Killian is with him.”
“Sir Killian? Last I heard, he vanished from Longville the moment the lord disappeared. Why would he show up out of nowhere?”
When I pressed him, the soldier looked embarrassed.
“I… couldn't say, my lord. I was merely ordered to deliver the news and bring him here alone.”
Feeling an odd mix of unease and curiosity, I followed the soldier out of my room.
The sun was setting.
The manor corridor opening onto the inner courtyard was pleasantly cool. The evening wind carried a distinct chill. September already.
Halfway to the hall, I ran into a familiar silhouette. A woman in a chiffon dress and thin jacket, a white kerchief over her hair.
“Dionea — I mean, my lady?”
“Ah.”
Dionea, who had been gazing down at the flowers blooming in the courtyard, flushed red at the sight of me. She turned her head with a cough, and the soldiers nearby withdrew.
“Sir Phoenix.”
“…Yes. Did you manage to sleep?”
As I drew closer, Dionea — her neck red to the nape — answered with a feigned composure.
“I did. Deeply, for the first time in ages. Though the guests woke me.”
“I see…”
Glancing down, I saw that most of the flowers she'd been studying had already withered. Only the latria still held its head stiffly upright, though even those were losing their violet luster.
A brief silence.
In the sunset-drenched courtyard, I found myself remembering the fire we'd kindled around midday. Her piteous cries, her desperate movements. That white, slender, soft body.
I forced the thought away and spoke.
“Shouldn't you be going to greet them? I hear the Count's second son has arrived…”
“A guest who arrives without warning can wait a little while, don't you think?”
Dionea hesitated, then spoke again.
“I'd like to walk for a bit. May I ask for your escort?”
“Of course, my lady.”
When I offered my left arm, she slowly laid her hand upon it. A smile rose to her reddened face.
Dionea was like a flower grown in parched soil.
The desolate air about her, that beautiful face, her frail shoulders — they all resembled it.
And a flower grown in drought soaks to its very core at a single drop of dew.
So did Dionea. Rejoicing until she overflowed at a single drop of love, and shining with the brightest bloom.
“In the spring, five years ago—”
Dionea said quietly as we strolled through the courtyard.
“I planted these flowers here.”
“Five years ago, then—”
“When I married the Baron.”
Whhee — a chill wind blew past. The touch of her hand on my arm grew heavier.
“Since then, I have bloomed alone and withered alone. Without meaning. Without anyone to watch me do it.”
Her eyes, laden with tangled feelings, swept over the courtyard.
“Every year around this time, I found my comfort here. Watching the flowers fall.”
“It made the loneliness easier to bear. It let me feel that I wasn't alone.”
The courtyard wasn't large. Even at our languid pace, a full circuit passed quickly.
“A flower in bloom is beautiful in a hundred different ways. A flower withering is ugly in only one.”
“So… thank you, Sir Phoenix.”
“…For what, exactly?”
“This year, even watching the flowers die, I feel nothing at all.”
Dionea gave a radiant smile.
“It's thanks to you.”
The courtyard lay all in wither, as if bracing against the cold — and yet one flower alone stood in full bloom.