Anyway, the Days Pass - 2
I had been cursed. Not some cheap hex rolling around on a roadside from a common shaman, either—I had been cursed by none other than the Dragon Lord himself.
"Then I shall see the dark-haired child again."
No matter how I turned it over, it was a curse. When a being like the Dragon Lord left words like I'll see you next time, what else could it be but the most potent brand of curse imaginable? A brand that would only lift when one of us—me or the Dragon Lord—was dead.
And which of us would die first was painfully obvious, so put another way, it was a brand I would carry for life. A thoroughly horrifying prospect.
"But isn't it better if he only sees you next time? I've heard of retainers who served three or even four generations."
"So the real curse was right here."
Unfortunately, when I poured out my grievances, Eri only answered with something even more bone-chilling. Not a curse word, strictly speaking—but from where I sat, it was worse than any parental insult. Three generations? Four? How could she even say that?
So I channeled my wounded feelings into tickling Eri, who was perched on my right knee.
"H-hey, that's dirty! You can't even deny it, so you resort to—!"
"Quiet."
With a thoroughly sincere pair of hands, I set her off laughing and squirming. I had my arm locked tight around her waist so she couldn't escape, leaving her nothing to do but thrash like a squid on a hot grill.
"Hihik—hyiii—hyeeeh...!"
She twisted and writhed as if she might cry, but I did not let go. That was how thoroughly her remark had crossed the line—spectacularly so.
What? I'm lucky if he only sees me next time? There are retainers who served three or four generations?
I'd be lucky if it stopped at four.
In a heavy mood, I quietly closed my eyes. Back in the cave, the Dragon Lord's custom-made curse had kept me from thinking it through—but for me, even four generations would be a blessing.
The lifespan-amplifying potion Trixie had created. If I took that potion, I would live for centuries. At that point it wouldn't be four generations—it could be fourteen. I might one day stand before the Dragon Lord and say, This is Eimanca the Thirtieth, only to hear, It feels like only yesterday that the Seventeenth took the throne.
Damn it.
I almost felt like crying. Eternal health and long life were every human's wish, but when "long" meant centuries, the conversation changed. Even the Emperor would probably shake his head if someone told him to live for hundreds of years.
But I could not refuse so easily. If I did not choose longevity, it would mean Trixie had to endure those centuries alone.
This is hard.
I let out a small sigh. The lifespan potion supposedly needed decades of continuous use before it took effect, so I had planned to decide slowly—but after meeting the Dragon Lord, the lifespan problem I had buried at the back of my mind had resurfaced in full force.
Of course, it was not a decision for today. This was not just my and Trixie's matter—it concerned the whole family.
Even so, the bitter, tangled feelings would not leave me. Whichever path I chose, no matter how long I deliberated, grief was something I would have to brace for—
"M-Master."
"Hm?"
A voice from my left knee cut through my thoughts.
"Eri seems to have reflected enough, so perhaps you might... release her..."
At that, I turned my gaze toward Eri, and—
"Hic—guhhnngh..."
"Ah."
The moment I saw Eri on the verge of actual tears, I pulled my hands away. I had gotten so absorbed that I had dealt excessive damage.
"Phine really is the big-hearted one."
"Y-you flatter me too much!"
In my embarrassment I deliberately addressed Penelia, and Phine—called not by her true name but by that nickname—shuddered all over and answered at full volume.
The reaction was so entertaining I could not help smiling. Phine, who was only just barely adapting to physical affection, had been sunk all over again by a nickname of two short syllables. This, after looking envious every time Eri was called by hers.
"Flattery, nothing. I called you kind because you are kind, Phine."
With those words I pressed a kiss to Phine's lips. In every sense her tolerance was low, so it was only right to show this kind of affection whenever the chance arose. Even now, mid-kiss, I could feel her vibrating.
If I went easy on the affection just because her tolerance was low, we might end up with the unprecedented disaster of a bride fainting at the altar. That would not do.
"Leaving me out of the good mood again!"
In the middle of that, Eri, having recovered her wits, ambushed me by biting my ear.
The surprise was so sudden I nearly bit Phine's lip as well.
Report the succession of the Imperial Count title to the Emperor, pay respects to the Dragon Lord, and while I was in the Imperial Capital, spend time with Eri and Phine.
My cheeks and lips had swollen from being tormented by a completely flipped-out Eri during that last item on the schedule, but I managed to finish everything I needed to do in the capital without real trouble and return to the Academy. Smoothly enough, all things considered.
It would be so much easier if they were all in one place.
But smooth conclusion or not, the moment I stepped into the Inspector's quarters I let out a sigh. It struck me every time—having my lovers scattered was endlessly inconvenient. Meet one and you could not meet another; share one kind of intimacy with one and be unable to share it with another. A bizarre, dreadful situation.
If all my lovers were gathered in one place—or if, at the very least, the conditions guaranteed I could see them all within a single day—things would be better. Regrettably, that was hard.
Do I really have to go full commute mode?
I lay down on the bed and considered it seriously.
Commuting between the Imperial Capital and the Academy by teleportation. I had thought of it briefly once before and set it aside, but the time had come to reexamine the idea. Once Mar graduated and we married, the capital manor would become our base of operations—yet my club members were still students, so I would still need to maintain my status as an Academy Inspector.
A headache of a problem. Become a capital shut-in and I would be neglecting foreign royalty; choose the Academy and I would be spending my honeymoon at the office. Either way I would be coughing blood, so commuting was the answer.
With Trixie here, it's not impossible.
The one silver lining was that the continent's foremost mage stood at my side. Teleport-commuting was possible both in theory and in practice.
True, I would have to live with the self-loathing of a husband cadging rides in his wife's carriage every day, but—
What is pride, really?
Put differently, if I could just swallow that self-loathing, there was no problem at all. I could tend to both newlywed life and civil-service work, and with the capital and the Academy in the same daily living radius, I could see every one of my lovers within a single day. No more fretting over them being scattered as they were now.
...I should bring it up before long.
Thinking about it, catching a ride from an older wife who entered society first was not that strange.
I decided to think of it that way.
After a short but fulfilling weekend, I found myself face-to-face with Villar for the first time in a while.
"The second-year schedule is winding down as well. This year seems to have flown by faster than last."
I nodded toward Villar as he spoke in his usual measured way.
Whether it was the sheer volume of work that made time vanish, or the brief departure north, I could not say—but the second-year schedule did feel as if it had rushed past.
Or perhaps it was because the club members had been quieter than last year. When they behaved, Academy life was relatively peaceful.
"To think it has already been two years since I first met Sir Villar... This is something. I almost regret that we will part ways next year."
"I am relieved. It seems I was not the only one feeling the loss."
When I offered the remark with a slight smile, Villar returned a reply laced with humor.
A reaction I could never have imagined when I first met him. Two years, it seemed, had been long enough to build a real rapport even with a taciturn knight.
"Ah—and I heard you have succeeded to your title. Late as it is, allow me to offer my congratulations."
"Still, among foreigners, I was on the early side."
At that, Villar huffed a quiet laugh. Well, the only foreigners I had really seen were the ones at the Academy, so—
"Then what of a gift? That, I suspect, would be early even counting Imperial citizens."
So saying, Villar drew something from his coat.
A pocket watch.
"...You are the first to give me a gift, Sir Villar."
"I am honored."
The unexpectedness of it left me briefly flustered. I had certainly received many congratulations, but a gift was a first.
After all, what did you give someone who had just inherited a title and a domain—a fortune of absurd scale? Unless the gift was truly precious, better not to give one at all. It would only be forgotten in short order.
And yet Villar had deliberately produced one. An ordinary pocket watch, at that.
What is this about?
I turned the matter over quickly. Villar and I had grown reasonably close over two years, but even so he was not a man who acted without reason. That pocket watch would have a reason of its own.
As if reading that look in my eyes, Villar explained first.
"In truth, this is not a gift I prepared myself. It is a token of His Majesty the King's sincerity toward the Inspector who has so excellently guided His Highness Ryutis."
Ah. So not Villar's gift, but the King of Armein's.
...
?
What?
Who?
I held out the pocket watch toward the Inspector, who was staring with eyes wide in shock.
Honestly, I was flustered and overwhelmed myself. To think I had carried a gift bestowed by His Majesty the King in my own coat—my heart was hammering so hard my hands wanted to tremble.
But if even I, a mere messenger, felt this way, how much more so the Inspector? A king was a king, foreign or not. The Inspector could hardly help being thoroughly astonished.
I am glad I could finally deliver it.
Watching the Inspector accept the pocket watch with a complicated expression, I breathed an inward sigh of relief.
I had begun carrying that pocket watch during this year's summer break. When I briefly returned to my homeland, His Majesty had ordered me to take charge of it. Someday he would give the signal, he had said—and then I was to present it to the Inspector.
"...The crest of the Lovens royal house."
"Yes. As a gift from His Majesty to a benefactor, the royal crest has been engraved upon it."
I answered naturally to the Inspector's murmur as he opened the watch's lid.
That watch was no mere timepiece. It was an object given to retainers who offered fervent loyalty to the royal house, or who rendered great service to the nation—or a symbolic item extended to figures with whom the royal house must draw close at all costs.
And the Inspector was clearly the latter. His Majesty regarded him as a man with whom Armein must establish friendly relations for the sake of its future.
And rightly so.
At present, the Inspector stood at the pinnacle of swordsmen. Moreover, he had played a decisive role in the Empire's northern campaign.
For that reason alone, His Majesty could not help but be concerned. Might the Inspector's blade one day turn toward Armein? Might he follow in the footsteps of the Iron Blood Duke, who had left Armein with wounds that could never be washed clean?
And so His Majesty had extended a hand of friendship to the Inspector—a foreign vassal. Even if he could not prevent the Inspector from going to war under the Emperor's command, he would at least prevent him from becoming a hawk who first demanded the opening of hostilities.
"I have received a gift beyond my station. It is a regret that I cannot offer my thanks in person."
Fortunately, the Inspector's reaction was not a bad one.
That was enough.