Ring Exchange
Catherine gently closed her eyes and shut down her thoughts.
The notion that her mental fortitude could be physically worn away.
She shook her head hard, barely clawing her way back to clarity. To shove aside the ideas that kept surfacing, she focused instead on the taste lingering on her tongue.
"Well, anyway, this Amadeus Roche is somehow like Alrune's Tear, yet different—an addictive flavor. It doesn't actually have addictive properties, does it?"
"If it did, wouldn't I have been struck by divine punishment back at the grand hall?"
"I was only saying."
Catherine reflexively reached for another Roche, then froze. With a look of pure dissatisfaction, she withdrew her hand.
I almost grabbed it without thinking.
The Roche—no, the Amadeus—unlike any dish she had tasted before, was addictive enough to draw her hand of its own accord. She understood, just a little, why the gods had summoned him.
"That unique texture right at the center is especially…"
"The hazelnut at the very core?"
"No, not that."
Catherine waved her wrist side to side in a firm no.
"I mean this paste that's thicker and denser than jam."
"Ah—that's Nutella."
"Nutella, is it."
She rolled the word over her tongue the same way she had savored the Roche, pronouncing it slowly.
"Obviously from your previous life as well?"
"Yes. A jam made by adding Amadeus to hazelnut paste."
"Heavens. That must have taken a great deal of work."
Crushing nuts and stirring them into a paste was no ordinary task. Only a house spirit could manage it with ease. Karem had never made nut pastes like peanut butter himself; he always asked Mary. Catherine knew that well. And Mary had not left the tower these past few days.
"Don't tell me you made it yourself? Your arms look perfectly fine for that."
"Ah—I didn't use a house spirit. I got help from a forest nymph."
"A dryad? Flora?"
"Her vines turned out to be surprisingly useful."
Just recalling the bleak prospect of having to make hazelnut paste with his own two hands, without Mary's help, still made his vision swim. But humans were creatures of necessity.
Those legs that had come sprinting out of the net wrapped around the Amadeus fruit like a spider racing after a cockroach? Flora, who moved her vines as freely as her own arms?
Flora, could you stir this until it turns into jam?
Porong? Porong.
No, not with your hands. With those vines. Yes. Just like that.
Pororong.
His conscience had twinged at the thought of using a child less than a year old—one who still called him Papa. Until he tasted the Nutella that resulted. The prickling guilt melted away the instant it touched his tongue, like snow under midsummer sun. It had been worth it.
"Hmm… an automatically moving whisk, is it…"
"There were similar devices in my previous life, but nothing like that exists here, and I couldn't ask Mary for help…"
"Well, in any case, I understand. I'll have just one more."
Karem, following his mistress's will, picked up another Roche. He moved to feed it to her—then hesitated.
"Hmm? What is it?"
"Nothing. It's nothing."
Something flickered at the edge of his mind, but her look that asked why he was sitting there staring made him hurry to place the Roche between her lips.
Crunch—
He set the half-bitten Roche back on the plate.
"So—does the gift that doubles as punishment pass?"
"Hmm?"
"I mean, that's why I made these in the first place."
The slight petulance in his voice made Catherine's eyes blink rapidly.
"Ah. It passes. It passes."
"Don't tell me you'd forgotten?"
"Me? Of course not."
"I'm not convinced."
"Ha—as if!"
Her reaction was lukewarm at best. Karem considered pressing further—until Catherine's hand slipped into the folds of her cloak.
"At any rate. Since things have come to this, it works out well."
"Pardon?"
She opened the fist she had drawn from her breast and revealed a ring.
"What is this?"
"Yo—ahem. The self-defense magic tool I mentioned before."
"A magic tool… It's different from the one I saw earlier. That one was a gold ring with some large gem set in it."
"…I got a little greedy with that one and it exploded. Anyway, enough noise. Why are you just standing there? Take it."
Catherine had been muttering something under her breath, then abruptly looked ready to snap. Karem hastily bowed his waist and accepted the ring with both hands, studying it carefully.
It was nothing like the previous one. Silver formed the core, gold layered along either side, and a ruby set into the band. Inside the ruby, a tiny magic circle glowed; runes were engraved across the silver surface as though they were spreading outward. It looked like an ancient relic.
"Why are you just staring blankly? Put it on."
"Ah—I was simply admiring it. One moment."
Having taken his fill of looking, Karem slipped the ring on without hesitation.
"…Hey."
"…"
Onto the ring finger of his left hand. The meaning was obvious enough.
Catherine's mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
…Well, look at this little brat.
Then she saw what was happening in front of her and let out a quiet snort of laughter. From Karem's hand all the way up his neck, his skin was turning scarlet in an instant.
"I have a great deal I would like to say, but for the sake of the brave little boy, I'll keep silent."
"I'm not a little boy. I'm Karem."
"Yes. Karem. Ahem."
Catherine cleared her throat and discreetly fanned herself. Karem quietly offered her the half-eaten Roche.
Crunch—
"I've said it before—how long do you intend to keep being shy?"
"Says the one who still… Hm?"
Wait. What had she just said? Karem fed her another Roche and quietly replayed the earlier conversation.
"Does this mean you'll call me by my name from now on?"
"Ahem. You've had your coming-of-age ceremony. And it was a promise as well."
"Promises are important."
For all that, she had nearly called him "little boy" again and stopped short at the first syllable—but Karem decided, with a broad and thumping heart, to be understanding.
"Anyway—show me that gift you said you received from the gods."
"Pardon? The gift? Ah."
"…Don't tell me you forgot even that?"
"The situation was what it was. A man can forget a little."
Honestly, Karem felt a twinge of guilt, but he had his excuses. He had been invited into the divine realm and met two gods face to face. Before he could even examine the gift, the uproar at the grand hall had swallowed him whole.
"And a fellow like this is favored by the Three Gods."
"That just means they must have liked my cooking that much."
"Strictly speaking, they like the cooking from your previous life."
"I'm the one cooking it, so it's my cooking."
"Honestly. If you can't even speak properly… Fine. Just take out the gift you received from the gods."
Curiosity glittered in Catherine's eyes as she shook her head.
"Yes. One moment."
Now that he had emptied the Roche pouch completely, the coin-shaped foreign presence was even clearer. Karem slipped a hand inside the still-unremoved outer coat.
"…Hm? What?"
A flat, round shape—and a ring—caught between his fingers. There were uneven, pointed parts as well. With a feeling of surely not, he gripped the ring and drew it out.
"What is it that you're dragging this out so—"
Catherine had been about to frown, then lost her words entirely. Her expressionless face took on a small startle when Karem opened his hand. Excitement mixed in lightly.
A ring band of transparent crystal drawn long and braided into three strands. On the surface of the ice-like band, clear snowflake patterns caught the light of the magic-stone lamps and shone as brilliantly as diamonds.
Karem glanced at the gift Catherine had given him on his left hand, then at Skadi's gift, then at Catherine's empty hand.
"Lady Atanitas."
"Yes."
"May I borrow your left hand for a moment?"
"Do you think I don't have hands of my own?"
Even as she said it, her hand was already extending—her heart laid bare. Karem carefully supported the left hand of the Catherine who could not meet his eyes, and with the hand that already wore a ring, he slid the new one onto her ring finger.
Whether by design or chance, the ring fit her hand perfectly.
She'd said that presenting something without a bridal gift crossed a line.
Yet he had never once said such a thing while offering food or praying. Had she been watching in secret?
She must have found it terribly entertaining.
Come to think of it, it had been the same when he collapsed from the Curse of Aging. At their first meeting as well, Skadi had lost her temper like an auntie raging at the outrageous sweet-potato plot of a morning soap. Tutatis had had to restrain her.
Are they watching right now?
The thought made him feel a little mortified. His already flushed face burned hotter still.
And yet, watching Catherine cup her left hand as if nothing were amiss while her ears turned scarlet, he decided he didn't mind at all.
She's that happy. For that, the price is cheap enough.
He was about to tell them not to watch too often when it suddenly struck him how thoroughly awkward and embarrassing this situation was.
"…"
"…"
Their eyes met by accident; Catherine was clearly thinking the same thing.
"…What are you doing just sitting there?"
"Ah. Yes."
Fortunately Catherine seemed to have recovered a little; though still unnatural, she urged him to resume serving. Karem obeyed with a hot face.
Crunch—
Sweet, then crisp, then dense and snappy—the taste and sensation that no woman could ever pass by stormed across her tongue. Instinct kept chewing and swallowing the Roche that kept being offered.
The ring.
Catherine's reason carefully closed her other hand over the ring.
Crunch—
"It seems to suit your taste perfectly."
"Ahem, ahem. Quiet."
"Yes, yes. Here's another Roche. Please eat."
Catherine did not deny it; she only cleared her throat softly and shot him a sidelong glance. Whether she did or not, Karem was busy pushing Roche into her mouth the moment it stopped moving.
"Still, eating them one after another is making my mouth sticky."
"Shall I bring some warm milk?"
"That would be rather excellent."
Catherine closed her eyes, imagining for a moment; when she opened them again, Karem was nodding.
"Hot chocolate. Or here, perhaps we should call it hot Amadeus. Nothing beats a cup of it when the cold wind blows in winter."
"Hot chocolate?"
"It's nothing elaborate. You simply melt the sweet Amadeus part of the Roche you've been eating into milk or cream until it's thick and rich, then drink it."
"Oh-ho."
Come to think of it, she had heard that the ancient empire drank it as a beverage. Catherine briefly imagined the taste as Karem described it—a bitter-sweet, dense liquid clinging to the tongue; the soft sweep through the mouth and down the throat; the hot temperature that warmed a body chilled by winter.
Catherine had mastered ice magic. Winter's cold was little different to her from a warm spring day. That did not mean she failed to appreciate the special pleasure of drinking something hot and thick—beverage, soup, whatever it might be—while facing a fierce wind on a cold day.
"Just imagining it makes my mouth water."
"Oh, it will taste far better than you expect."
A drink of the sweet Amadeus that made up so much of the Roche, melted thick into milk or cream—every time he imagined it, excitement rose until heat seemed to radiate from his body of its own accord.
No—wait. I really do feel heat rising.
Of course he had felt similar sensations before. Eating something hot or heavily spiced with red-horse-hand made the body heat up. When his mana balance had collapsed and he caught a cold, fever had come as well. Now, as then, his skin burned so fiercely he could feel every fine hair standing on end. The difference was that, unlike a cold, a strange vitality coursed through his whole body until his senses themselves seemed to expand.
Seeing Catherine's state, Karem lightly struck a fist into his palm. He finally understood the nagging sensation that had been at the edge of his mind for some time.
"Ah—aaaaah."
"…Do you have some idea?"
"You said it was also used as a tonic—an aphrodisiac."
At those words Karem looked down at the Roche plate. Catherine's gaze followed his to the dish.
"…There are people who feel the effects too strongly."
The plate that had been piled high with Roche now showed its bottom; only a few remained.
"Some people need to be careful not to overindulge…"
"You should have told me the most important part!"
Catherine covered both eyes with her left hand; her right hand pointed at Karem. Bundles of ice stakes far thicker than usual began to explode toward him. Where they were aimed was obvious.
Bang—! Bang-bang!
"Ah! Wait! Lady Atanitas! These are stronger than before!"
"Don't talk nonsense!"
"No, they really have been reinforced!"
Unlike the icicles she usually fired lightly, each one was fast and heavy. He could see them embed themselves in the walls wherever he dodged. Of course, even if they hit him it would not matter—he had Skadi's sacred relic and now the self-defense magic-tool ring as well. But the pressure of the situation and the sight of them could not be ignored. On top of that, the tonic and stimulant effects of the Amadeus were clearly overpowering her cool reason.
Catherine's slightly unfocused eyes. Skin flushing little by little, matching her reddened ears.
"Wait, Catherine—your grip on reason is slipping a little—"
"You insolent brat! Trying to slip my name in casually!"
"No, it really looks like it's about to snap!"
As Karem retreated, Catherine staggered to her feet and kept deploying magic. Just as he thought she might fall—
Clunk—
"Don't you dare dodge…!?"
Catherine's foot caught on the chair; she was about to topple with it. Before thought could form, his body moved first. Karem wrapped his arms around her and went down with her.
Thud—!
"Ugh. That's why I said…"
"…"
"Please calm down. Ow, my head…"
He had cracked the back of his skull against the fallen chair on the way down and the world spun, but the sensations and the gaze from above made him forget the pain a beat late.
Catherine was far too close.
Damn it. I thought I'd finally gotten used to this.
All his previous efforts counted for nothing. Long golden hair like silk threads wrapped around them both. The light weight on his body, the subtly warm heat seeping through clothes, the softness of a frame smaller than expected. A flower scent he had never smelled before, thick and slow, covering him from head to toe. Skin like white jade, and pupils that blurred like an aurora only to snap into sharp focus.
Sight, smell, hearing, touch—every sense but taste was being assaulted so violently that the moment felt unreal.
"…"
"…"
Embarrassment was written plain across Catherine's face. Karem could guarantee his own looked exactly the same.
"S-so. Lady Atanitas."
"…Yes."
"Now that we've finally dropped the 'little boy' tag—"
"Stop dragging it out and say it all at once."
"Um. May I call you by name?"
"…Ahem. Ahem. Th-that… yes."
Slip—
Catherine flinched at the sudden touch against her hair. The culprit himself—her servant—twitched in equal surprise, clearly visible this close.
"…My finger brushed it without thinking."
"How dare you touch your mistress's hair without even asking permission."
"I apologize."
"Wh-who said you could take your hand away."
…Stroke, slip, stroke.
At her next words the paused hand slowly resumed. The sensation was utterly different from when she or Mary touched her own hair. Soft, rhythmic strokes. A pleasant pressure that swept the hair from crown to waist. A touch that gradually warmed hair gone cold—careful, and delicate.
With every moment of affection he could feel, a strange tickling began deep in her chest and only grew. Heartbeats—whose, neither could tell—grew faster and louder.
Pop.
That was when Mary appeared.
Suddenly standing before the tightly closed dining-room door, Mary opened her mouth—then shut it at the sight of her two masters' startled stares. The house elf's wide eyes rapidly scanned the room.
Snack gifts remaining on the plate (presumed). Overturned chair. Catherine toppled over, and Karem pinned beneath her.
Oh.
Ohhh.
Ohhhhhhhh.
"I'veinterruptedyourintimatetimeyoucancontinuewhatyouweredoingI—"
"Will you not stop right where you stand!!!"
Mary desperately tried to extract herself from the situation. Catherine and Karem were faster.
Thud—!
Holy power-laced cold burst like mist from the fist Karem slammed into the floor, freezing Mary's feet solid. Catherine, who had already raised a soundproof barrier, frantically interfered with Mary's magic.
Mary tried to open the door with only her waist. It was useless. The door had long since been locked from the outside by Catherine's mana control.
"No, both of you, this is troublesome! I still have work to do! Just pretend I never came and finish what you were—"
"Whatever you think this is, it is not that!"
"Th-that's right! Before you go, let's clear up the misunderstanding first!"
Waaah-waaah-waaah-waaah-waaah-!
Fortunately the uproar stayed trapped inside the dining room by the soundproof barrier. However, Olivier—who had been watching every second of it through a crystal ball in his own room—had a face so twisted that the contortion showed clearly even through his beard.