Chapter 55
The Flower That Bears a Sword - Chapter 55
Translation: godsn
Perhaps because my brain froze every time I spoke with Yurien. I'd genuinely been thinking only about crossing swords with him in earnest.
'After our duel... he said he'd tell me why he made me his squire, and even about that personal interest he supposedly took in me during the birthday banquet.'
I was curious. Desperately curious. What thoughts lay behind those eyes. How he truly viewed me. What exactly he saw in "Echinacea Roaz" that kept drawing his attention.
If he merely suspected I was a cadet who hadn't existed before the regression, if he was observing whether I might become the Demon of the Magic Sword—then why show me those expressions? Were those looks merely tests and deceptions?
'I want to duel. No, more precisely, I want to duel him to hear his thoughts.'
Unconsciously, Eki's fingers traced the Amethyst at her waist. That sword—so white and beautiful, prepared solely for her. The blade embedded with amethysts matching her violet eyes.
"Someday, I'd like to converse with you through crossed blades."
His words from the train resurfaced. She recalled her duel with Alice—the first spar where she'd felt genuine enjoyment. With Yurien, it might be far more exhilarating than even that. If they truly crossed swords in earnest.
But that could never be. She had too much to conceal before him. Accept the duel and suffer a humiliating defeat—that was her resolution. Her grip tightened momentarily on the hilt before releasing.
After stopping for lunch, they reached a small valley nestled between mountains by late afternoon. The peaks weren't high, so the valley remained shallow. From the ridge, through summer-verdant trees, they spotted what appeared to be a ramshackle hut.
"That's the place."
Yurien halted, pointing. When Eki looked up at him questioningly, he elaborated.
"A rest stop hunters and herbalists share in these parts. We'll keep watch over it while we wait."
"In there...?"
She nearly asked if that was where the Saintess had been murdered. Biting her tongue, Eki barely stopped the words.
"What exactly will happen here?"
At her rephrased question, Yurien turned. Those piercing sky-blue eyes regarded her before he offered a faint, bitter smile.
"Indeed. The event will occur noisily at midnight—you'll recognize it easily. Within three or four days at earliest, though it might take up to ten."
"Lord, how can you know such things?"
She deliberately questioned his prophetic tone, thinking silence would seem stranger. Without looking at her, Yurien answered while turning toward their supplies.
"Apologies, but that's difficult to answer now. First, let's pitch camp here."
"...Yes, Lord."
They'd brought camp gear when departing Agenka. Choosing a spot inconspicuous from the valley below, Eki and Yurien each erected their tents.
Finishing first, Yurien built a fire and began preparing dinner. Unpacking inside her tent, Eki paused when savory aromas pierced through—sticking her head outside in surprise.
"Lord, I should be handling meal preparations—"
"Finish unpacking first. It's not ready yet."
He answered without even turning around, stirring the pot. Inside, a stew bubbled, releasing a savory aroma. Eki hurried over to him, searching for any way to assist, but all the ingredients had already been prepared and added to the pot. The only tasks left were taking out the bread or stirring the stew—and the ladle was already in Yurien's hand.
"Why aren't you having me do this?"
She protested quietly, her face flushing with embarrassment. For a knight to prepare a meal when a squire was present—it was unheard of. Yurien gave a faint smile.
"Do you not trust my cooking?"
"That's not what I meant. This is a squire's duty."
"Don't worry about it. I just had time to spare."
An unexpected proficiency radiated from him—hard to believe for someone of royal descent. He casually scooped a bit of the stew, placed it on a small plate, and handed it to her.
"Taste it for me."
"Uh—y-yes."
The look in Yurien's eyes as he watched her was unusually gentle. Flustered, Eki accepted the plate. She blew on the steaming stew a few times before taking a bite. Her eyes widened slightly.
"I had no idea you were such a good cook, my lord."
She murmured the words, admiration naturally coloring her gaze as she looked at him. Yurien subtly averted his eyes. His cheeks faintly flushed as he replied softly.
"...I'm not that good. Just decent enough to make something edible. I was a squire once too, after all."
"Huh?"
Eki jolted in surprise. The idea of him serving as someone else's squire—she couldn't even begin to imagine it. Yurien let out a quiet chuckle.
"Is it really that shocking?"
"It's just... I always thought you were... a perfect knight from the very beginning."
"How could that be? I've made mistakes, faced failures, even lost my way at times."
He spoke calmly as he ladled the finished stew into bowls. Eki took out the bread they had bought from the village, sliced it, and arranged it on a tray. With the low-alcohol wine they had brought instead of water, a modest but hearty meal was set on the makeshift table.
"It's hard to imagine you ever being lost, my lord."
"Dietrich would laugh if he heard that."
"Sir Dietrich—you mean the junior knight? The one with red hair and red eyes?"
She had almost said Giosa Owner. Eki bit her tongue again. Yurien handed her a bowl of stew as he replied.
"If you mean Junior Knight Dietrich Sarua, then yes. We've been close since our cadet days."
Memories surfaced of Dietrich's loud chatter when he had visited her and Baraha's tent during the White Crow Canyon monster subjugation. He had mentioned being roommates with Yurien back then. And something about geniuses all being crazy.
'Come to think of it, does that mean Yurien was included in Dietrich's "crazy" category?'
Impossible. She couldn't picture it at all. Oblivious to her thoughts, Yurien continued.
"When I first enrolled at the academy, my mind was in turmoil. So I ended up being quite a burden to Dietrich."
"A burden? In what way?"
"...Let's eat first. It's getting cold."
He handed her a spoon. Though his story was far more interesting than the meal, she obediently accepted it.
The freshly made stew and the bread bought from the village that morning were almost too luxurious for a meal in the mountains. Even the low-alcohol wine, meant as a substitute for water, was still alcohol—and as the slight buzz set in, her heart loosened along with it.
Echi kept stealing glances at Yurien sitting across from her. His neat and elegant mannerisms while eating simply didn't connect with his past confession of wandering aimlessly and inconveniencing his roommate.
The moment they finished eating, Echi snatched away the dishes Yurien was about to gather.
"At least let me handle the washing up."
"I've nothing else to do anyway. We'll do it together."
He swiftly picked up the tray she'd missed while responding. Arguing seemed pointless—he clearly wouldn't listen. Echi gave up and moved alongside him.
A short distance inward from their tent site, a small spring had formed where the stream pooled.
With Yurien beside her, she couldn't remove her gloves, so Echi submerged the dishes while still wearing them. The odd sight would surely draw his comment, she thought, already preparing excuses—about not wanting her hands to wrinkle in water or such. But Yurien asked nothing.
They washed in silence. Whether it was her crouching in a dress or him in pristine white uniform, neither looked suited to the task. Yet despite appearances, both were remarkably adept—Yurien from his cadet and squire days, and Echi from nine years of nomadic Giosa hunting that had made her a survival expert.
"Lord, what kind of trouble did you cause Sir Dietrich?"
Shaking water off a bowl, Echi suddenly asked. Yurien hesitated. His eyes lowered, lips parted slightly, then he exhaled a shallow sigh.
"Are you that curious?"
"You brought it up first, Lord. How could I not wonder?"
"Because you keep talking to me, I keep getting carried away—"
Yurien reflexively replied before trailing off. Carried—what? He's getting excited because I talk to him? Echi's face went blank as she processed his slip. Noticing her expression, Yurien hastily averted his gaze and sprang up.
"We're returning to camp. Sunset's approaching—we need to secure the rest area."
"Lord?"
"I'll go ahead. I'll take first watch tonight, so you rest. Tomorrow night's your turn."
"Lord, wait—"
Gathering the washed dishes, Yurien vanished from the streamside in an instant. Echi stared blankly at his retreating white back, fleeing like a man chased.
[He's acting really weird. Why's he like that? Did he want to talk to you?]
"...Seems so."
[Why? For what? To fish for weaknesses while chatting? Or wait for you to slip up?]
"Slip up?"
[He's hoping you'll accidentally reveal proof that you're my master by keeping you talking! Oh, I just made an epic deduction! Right? It's the only explanation!]
Logically, devoid of emotion, the Magic Sword's reasoning made sense. But his tone, expressions, body language, and that slipped phrase kept pointing elsewhere.
"No. It was personal interest."
His words in the stables rang through her mind like clanging bells.
Impossible. 'Echinacea Roaz' and Yurien had only met once at a banquet, never exchanging words. It made no sense. She couldn't comprehend it. Clutching her increasingly tangled thoughts, she muttered:
"I'll challenge him to spar."
[Huh? Spar? With him?]
"Yes. I must."
She needed to spar and hear his reasons. Otherwise, these thoughts would keep distracting her. Echi solidified her resolve.