If It's You
“Captain Grain?” Ria echoed. “You mean it?”
Tasha didn’t answer right away. The old lantern hanging from the captain’s cabin ceiling swayed mournfully in the sea wind. On the desk, inside the faded photograph, Edel was smiling. Staring at that smile dragged up a smell from long ago. Wet earth. The metallic tang of blood. Acrid smoke that scraped the back of the throat. And the blood that had spilled from between Edel’s lips. Tangled inside the red were black, thread-like strands. Every time she tried to breathe, they came spilling out with it.
Tasha spoke in a low, sunken voice. “That child… she probably never knew.”
It hadn’t started with any desire to stand at Edel’s side.
Edel, Grain, and Tasha all shared the same father. Only their mothers were different. In a noble house where power struggles were everyday life, it wasn’t unusual. Among those names, Edel’s shone the brightest. The one most often mentioned as successor.
The one the elders smiled at and called forward, then watched warily once their backs were turned. Even though whispers followed her—frail body, soft temperament, she won’t last long—she somehow never fell from favor.
Tasha’s mother had watched that girl for a long time. Then one day she summoned Tasha in secret.
“Stay close to Edel.”
Tasha said nothing. Her mother set her teacup down with elegant grace and whispered, “Learn what you can from her. Dig up every weakness. That child is soft-hearted. She lets people in too easily and trusts too quickly.”
“Why should I?”
“She’s your sister.”
Her mother spoke the words gently, yet there was not a trace of warmth at the corners of her mouth. “In this family, shared blood isn’t a shield. It’s closer to a sword hilt.”
Tasha let the words slide past her. Such talk came too easily inside these walls. Enemy. Someone to watch. Someone to push out eventually. At the dinner table, when choosing blades, even when celebrating someone’s birthday. Everyone said those things without hesitation. Tasha had grown sick of it.
Successor or not, it was all just a power struggle. No matter who sat at the top, the family remained the family and the elders remained the elders. It had nothing to do with her.
Even after she began observing Edel up close, her thoughts barely changed. Find her weaknesses? Tasha had scoffed inwardly. There was nothing to find. Edel was a walking collection of weaknesses. Her body was frail, her words sometimes lagged a beat behind.
Even during important conversations she would stare out the window for long stretches, and there were times she failed to catch sarcasm right away. What on earth was she supposed to learn from someone like that?
Grumbling, Tasha lingered near Edel’s room. She watched who she met, what documents she read, where her hands paused. That was how she got caught one day.
A small wooden box hidden behind the bookshelf. Inside were cheap adventure novels secretly bought from a dockside stall. Tales of an ancient crown lost in an underwater palace.
An island that only appeared like a ghost on stormy nights. A ghost ship sunk while carrying a hold full of gold. Not the sort of thing a noble child should carry, let alone the daughter of a naval house. So she had hidden them.
In truth, they always felt ridiculous once she finished reading. Nothing but third-rate nonsense. The island’s location was a mess, the ocean current markings sloppy.
A sea of terror ruled by monsters could not possibly exist. Yet on the next market day she would find herself hovering near that dockside stall again. On the way home with one more worn book clutched to her chest, her steps would quicken on their own.
That day had been the same. She had only stepped away for a moment. When she returned, Edel was sitting in the window chair, one of Tasha’s books open in her lap. The box lay open beside her.
Tasha’s face hardened. “What are you doing?”
Edel looked up. In her hand was an old treasure map.
“Ah.” Edel blinked a beat too late. “Sorry. Was this yours?”
Tasha strode over and snatched the map away, quickly closing the books inside the box.
“Did you read it?”
“A little.”
“How much?”
“Um… up to here.” Edel started to point at the page she had been reading, then caught Tasha’s glare and quietly lowered her hand.
Tasha clutched the box to her chest. Her heart was beating a little too fast. She felt embarrassed. More than that, the thought of getting in trouble flashed through her mind. The daughter of a naval house, caught clinging to such nonsense.
Tasha twisted her lips. “You’re going to tell, aren’t you?”
“Tell what?”
“You know what. The elders. Or Mother.”
Edel looked at her with genuine confusion. “Why would I?”
“What do you mean, why?” Tasha lowered her voice. “You’re not supposed to look at things like this.”
“Really?” Edel wore the face of someone hearing this for the first time.
Tasha found the expression even more absurd. “You’re a successor candidate and you don’t even know that?”
“I’m not asking because I don’t know.” Edel glanced at the box in Tasha’s arms. “I just like them.”
Tasha’s eyebrows twitched. “What?”
“Stories like these.” Edel leaned forward slightly. “Islands that only appear on stormy nights. A crown lost in a palace beneath the sea. A ghost ship captain still searching for his treasure.”
Tasha was speechless. Edel added casually, “The part about the octopus guarding the gold was a bit much, though.”
“You read all of it.”
“Just a little.”
“You read all of it.”
When Tasha growled, Edel looked away sheepishly for a moment. Tasha stared at her.
“Sister.”
“Yes?”
“Is it all right for a successor candidate to like things like that?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“The family would call it pathetic.”
“Then just read them in secret.”
Tasha was speechless again. “…That’s it?”
“Yes.” Edel looked as if she truly saw nothing strange about it. “They’re fun.”
Tasha stood there clutching the box, silent for a long time. In this family it had always been different. Don’t let your heart be stolen by useless things. Don’t be swayed by nonsense.
Tasha had been raised with those harsh lessons drilled into her. That was why she had looked down on herself for liking these books. Why she had thought they must stay hidden.
Yet Edel had said it so easily. That she liked them. That they were fun.
Tasha let out a dry laugh. “You really are a strange person.”
“I hear that a lot.”
“It’s not a compliment.”
“I know.”
Edel smiled faintly. “Let’s talk about them together next time.”
Tasha didn’t answer. Edel didn’t try to look at the box again or take it from her. She simply stood and walked toward the door. Then she paused and looked back.
“Will you tell me how the octopus story ends?”
“No.”
“Then next time.”
With that, Edel left. Even after the door closed, Tasha remained standing there, box clutched to her chest, staring at the chair where Edel had been sitting.
“What is with that person?”
It was irritating. She had been caught, yet received no scolding. A weakness had been exposed, yet no mockery came. A few days later, Edel really did ask again.
“That octopus story—how does it end?”
Tasha had tried not to answer. But Edel simply waited. She didn’t press, didn’t tease. She just waited. In the end Tasha opened the box.
At first she told herself it was to find weaknesses. What kind of stories Edel liked. What made her laugh. Where she let her guard down. She could report all of it to her mother. But somehow the conversations kept stretching longer.
Edel genuinely loved those tales. Her eyes would brighten at stories of islands not on any map. She would call monstrous creatures ridiculous yet listen to the end. Sometimes she would share books she had read herself.
Most of them made no sense and she could barely remember the titles. Tasha would correct her and sigh. Edel would laugh.
Those hours weren’t bad. The face of the enemy her mother had spoken of grew blurrier and blurrier. In its place remained Edel, leaning over old books, tracing ridiculous sea routes with her fingertips, seriously declaring that a ship must have capsized here.
Tasha still called her “Sister.” At first because the title had stuck. Then because everyone else did. And at some point the word no longer grated on her the way it once had.
From then on, Edel slowly entered Tasha’s daily life. Forgetting documents, tying her cloak strings crookedly, remembering a schedule she had just set a beat too late. Each time, Tasha would click her tongue.
“What would you do without me, Sister?”
Edel would smile without a hint of remorse. “But you’re here.”
While grumbling, Tasha would retie the cloak strings. She didn’t want the annoying curl at the corner of her mouth to be noticed, so she kept her head stubbornly lowered.
There were always many people around Edel. Now Tasha thought she understood why, at least a little.
After the meeting that day, Edel stood by the window again. In the training yard below, practice was in full swing. Young Grain held a sword. It was still the time when the blade looked bigger than her body. She fell, got up, fell again. Even when blood spread across her knees the instructor didn’t stop.
“Again.”
The short command rang out. Grain clenched her teeth and picked up the sword.
Tasha watched without much thought. All the children of the family grew up that way. Tasha had, and so had Edel. If you fell, you stood. If it hurt, you endured. If you were afraid, you hid it. That was simply how things were.
But Edel watched the yard for a long time.
“I don’t want to pass this on.”
Tasha turned to her. “What?”
“We all learned it, didn’t we? You, me, Grain.” Edel’s fingertips rested on the windowsill. “You have to stand back up when you fall. You have to be fine even when it hurts. You must never show fear.”
Below in the yard, Grain lifted her sword again. Her small shoulders trembled. Still she didn’t cry. Her face already knew that crying was not allowed.
Edel looked at that face and said, “I don’t want to pass this down to the children who come after us.”
Tasha let out a dry laugh. “That’s the same as saying you’ll change the family.”
“Yes.”
“The elders would faint if they heard you.”
“Even so, it must be done.”
Edel wasn’t smiling. Only then did Tasha fall silent.
“For me, for you, for Grain.” Edel’s gaze remained on the yard. “I want a family where we can laugh without thinking about anything once in a while.”
Tasha thought it was nonsense. The family was old, solid, and the elders were ready to tear Edel apart at the slightest misstep. Yet strangely, she couldn’t laugh. Below, Grain stood up again. With dirt-covered hands she gripped the sword and, staggering, assumed her stance.
Tasha looked at Grain, then at Edel again. It was impossible. Still, for just a moment, she found herself secretly wanting to see the kind of family Edel had described.
Time passed. The little girl who had rolled in the dirt and bled in the training yard was no longer a child. She could hold a sword, receive orders, and stand on the edge of a battlefield.
Edel had changed too. Her body was still weak. She still sometimes left documents in odd places and drifted into strange thoughts after meetings. But she no longer shrank back in fear before the elders or compromised as often.
Tasha always stood like a shadow at Edel’s back, in the closest place. At first to watch her. Then because she worried. Later even giving it a reason became tiresome. When Edel walked in a certain direction, Tasha simply followed in silence.
Edel dug into the depths of the family. Missing children. Records deliberately buried. Names erased from the family tree. Supplies without owners or ledgers, and traces of black magic that should not exist. One by one they fell into Edel’s hands.
The elders pretended not to know. The adults kept their mouths shut. The records vanished and those who remained turned their heads. Still Edel did not stop.
Finally she reached evidence that the family had joined hands with a black mage. The mage had not trusted the family. He had known he too would one day be discarded.
So he had hidden things. Names traded. Items handed over. Records of dead children. Evidence that could overturn the family. But where those things were hidden was never discovered.
From then on Edel began to push herself harder. She spoke less, slept less. Tasha told her several times to stop. Each time Edel smiled. It’s all right, she said. Just a little more. Tasha knew those words were lies.
Grain learned the truth a little later. It was the night before an operation. While Tasha was briefly away, Grain saw Edel’s fingertips trembling. They rested on a map. The tips shook ever so slightly. Edel quickly withdrew her hand. She continued receiving reports as if nothing had happened, but Grain could not tear her eyes from those fingers for a long time.
That night Grain stood at the end of the corridor. The lantern light cast long, swaying shadows on the wall. She knew she should go back. Yet her feet would not move. The trembling fingertips on the map kept rising in her mind.
Then came the sound of cloth brushing from the far end of the corridor. Grain looked up. It was her mother.
Her mother stopped. She studied Grain’s face. The area around her eyes, the tightly closed lips, the clenched fists.
“Grain.”
Grain could not answer. Her mother approached slowly.
“What is that pathetic expression?”
Her voice was quiet. Grain tightened her fists. It took a long time before her lips opened.
“I’m… worried about Sister Edel.”
At those words, her mother’s eyes narrowed with faint displeasure. Her smile, however, was bright. Bright enough to seem even more so beneath the lantern light.
Her mother took a small vial from her robe. It was dark blue glass. The liquid inside caught the light and rippled clearly.
Grain’s gaze fixed on the vial.
“It is a tonic used by those heading to battle,” her mother whispered in her ear. “It magically suppresses fatigue and lightens a body heavy as lead.”
Grain could not take the vial right away. Edel’s trembling fingertips rose in her mind. The face that had smiled and said just a little more. Grain asked carefully, “May I give it to Sister Edel?”
Her mother held out the vial. “Take it to the person you are worried about.”
Even after hearing that, Grain hesitated. Her mother’s hand did not move. The vial remained in front of her.
“May I check it?”
“Go ahead.”
It was a short answer. Grain opened the stopper. A bitter scent rose. She wet her fingertip with a tiny amount and touched it to her tongue. Bitterness spread.
At first nothing happened. Then, like a lie, her chest opened with refreshing clarity. The weight of fatigue that had pressed on her shoulders slowly lifted. Grain blinked. It worked. It really did.
She slipped the vial into her robe. The only thought left was that she could help Sister Edel.
The next day, Grain stood for a long time in front of Edel’s tent. She only had to hand it over. Even while thinking that, her hand would not move easily. The vial inside her clothes shook slightly. Grain swallowed once and lifted the flap.
“Sister Edel.”
Edel, who had been organizing her gloves, looked up. “Grain?”
Grain took the vial from her robe. The dark blue glass glinted faintly beneath the lantern light.
“Please… take this.”
Edel’s gaze fell on the vial. “What is it?”
Grain spoke a little too quickly. “I tested a little. It worked.”
Edel looked at Grain’s face before the vial. Sleepless eyes. Dry lips. The fingertips holding the vial. Edel asked softly, “Were you worried?”
Grain did not answer. Instead she pushed the vial forward. Edel watched her for a moment, then accepted it.
“Thank you.”
Grain still did not move. She stood at the entrance, staring only at Edel’s hand. Edel smiled faintly. When she opened the stopper, the bitter scent rose. Edel took a short breath and swallowed the medicine. The bitterness slid down her throat. A moment later the tremor that had remained in her fingertips eased a little. The tightness pressing on her chest faded.
Grain’s face visibly relaxed. “…Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Edel set the empty vial down and reached out. Grain did not pull away. Edel’s hand rested on top of her head. “Thanks to you, I feel a little better.”
Grain lowered her head. “…I’m glad.”
Her blunt reply was so small it seemed to crawl away. Yet she could not hide the tips of her ears burning bright red. Edel stroked her hair once more.
“Thank you, Grain.”
Grain could not answer. She only lowered her head further, a small smile on her lips.
The operation began before the sun had fully risen. The sea wind was harsh. Waves crashed against black rocks beneath the cliffs, and soldiers’ footprints stretched long across the wet sand. Edel stood near the front. A faint flush of color had returned to her face and her fingertips no longer trembled. Even her voice giving commands was clearer than usual.
“Tasha.” Edel called softly.
“What?”
“When we return, I have something to show you.”
Tasha turned to her. “What is it?”
“What the family has hidden.”
At those words Tasha’s eyes narrowed. Edel was looking toward the distant shoreline. “I don’t have it in my hands yet.” The wind scattered Edel’s hair. She didn’t bother brushing it aside and smiled faintly. “But now I think I know where to look.”
Tasha asked no more. There were many things she wanted to ask. But when she saw Edel’s face, the words would not come. It was strangely bright.
Edel let out a small breath. “It’s going to get busy when we return.”
At that moment a signal rose from the front. A short whistle. The movement of flags that followed. The smile vanished from Edel’s face.
“Left flank, do not hug the cliffs. Rear, wait for the signal. Front, reduce speed.”
The soldiers began moving in perfect order. Shields locked together over the wet sand, scabbards rattled. Tasha stayed at Edel’s side. Edel’s fingertips still did not tremble.
And then, just as the next command was about to come—Edel’s words cut off. It was a very brief silence. Her lips parted slightly. Tasha, sensing something wrong, turned her head at once.
“Sister? What’s wrong?”
Drip. Drip-drop. Red blood flowed from between Edel’s lips. Inside it, something like a black spiderweb was tangled. Every time she exhaled, it came out with the blood. Drops splattered onto the wet sand. The sound of waves grew distant. Tasha’s hands stiffened.
“Edel.”
Edel could not answer. A second surge of blood boiled up from inside her throat. This time it was darker. Tasha’s hands froze. This was no ordinary poison.
“Edel.” Tasha caught Edel’s body. Edel’s knees buckled helplessly. At that moment something fell from inside her clothes. A dark blue glass vial. It rolled across the wet sand and stopped against Tasha’s boot. It was empty.
Tasha stared at the vial. Then she looked at Edel’s mouth again. Black blood still clung to the corner of her lips. Tasha’s eyes darkened.
“What is this?”
Edel did not answer. It wasn’t that she couldn’t. It was the face of someone who did not want to speak. Tasha clenched her teeth.
“Who gave it to you?”
Edel’s lips moved slightly. But no voice came. That silence alone was enough. Tasha’s voice dropped lower.
“…Was it Grain?”
Edel’s hand clutched Tasha’s sleeve. There was almost no strength in it. Yet she refused to let go.
“To Grain… don’t…” The end of the sentence drowned in blood.
Tasha lowered her head. “Sister.”
Edel, unable to catch her breath, forced her lips to move again. “Don’t tell her.”
Strength entered Tasha’s fingertips. Edel’s hand gripped the sleeve once more. “Say… nothing.”
Tasha clenched her teeth and raised her head. “Medic! Call the medic right now!”
This time footsteps sounded. One man came running across the wet sand. It was the medic carrying a treatment bag. Tasha started to step aside for a moment. She had to save Edel. Right now she had to hold on to anything. The medic knelt before Edel.
“I will examine her condition.” He reached out urgently. It looked as if he meant to wipe the blood from her mouth. But Tasha saw it. A thin needle hidden between his fingers. Black liquid beaded at its tip. The hand was not heading for the wound but for the inside of Edel’s throat.
Tasha’s eyes turned ice-cold. “You—”
The medic’s hand moved faster. Tasha’s sword moved first.
Slash—!
The medic’s body collapsed onto the wet sand. Only then did she see. It wasn’t only the medic. One of the guards a few steps away had already drawn his blade. Another soldier blocked the path with his hand on his hilt. And behind them stood the adjutant.
The person Edel had kept closest for the longest time. The one who delivered her orders, held up documents before the elders, and relayed her words to the soldiers first on the battlefield. That person had his hand on his scabbard.
Edel’s gaze turned that way. Very briefly. For the shortest moment, Edel’s eyes shook. Tasha saw it. It was a betrayal even Edel had not known about.
“Step away from Lady Edel, Tasha.” The adjutant’s voice was low.
Tasha did not answer. She only pulled Edel closer. The adjutant’s gaze moved from the dead medic to Tasha’s bloodied sword.
“You killed the medic.”
The tips of the surrounding blades rose little by little. Tasha couldn’t even laugh. “So it was you too.”
The adjutant did not answer. Instead he spoke so everyone could hear. “Tasha is preventing treatment.”
At those words the soldiers’ eyes wavered. Some looked as if they believed it. Some did not. But their swords did not lower. Tasha tried to lift Edel. They had to get out of here. She could not tell who the traitors were. The medic, the guards, the adjutant—none could be trusted. If she left Edel with them, she would die.
“Let’s go,” Tasha said quietly. “I’ll take you out.”
Edel’s hand clutched Tasha’s sleeve. “It’s too late.”
“Shut up.”
“Tasha.”
“I will save you. I swear it.”
Edel shook her head very slightly. Even that movement looked difficult. “Listen to me.”
“I won’t.”
“The kingdom’s eastern coast.” Tasha’s hands stopped. Edel tried to swallow but blood came first. “Beneath the Black Cliffs.”
“Stop talking! Please just stop!”
“It’s there.” Edel’s fingertips gripped Tasha’s sleeve once more. “What the family hid.”
“Sister.”
“You… must retrieve it.”
“No! Why should I!” Tasha’s voice cracked low. “Do it yourself! Get up and do it yourself!”
Edel tried to smile faintly. It was the same slow, somewhat clumsy face as before. “I’m sorry, Tasha.”
Tasha could not answer. Her lips parted then closed. Edel’s hand grew colder and colder.
“Grain…” Tasha’s breath stopped.
“Sister.”
“Don’t hate her too much.”
With those final words, the strength left her fingertips.
Tasha could not move for a long time. Only the sound of waves remained. Shouts, the clash of steel, the sound of approaching footsteps—all of it grew distant. Very slowly, Tasha laid Edel down. She placed her on the wet sand, brushed the hair clinging to her face aside. The blood on her fingertips had already cooled.
The adjutant’s voice came again. “Tasha has betrayed us.” This time it was louder. “She killed Lady Edel and prevented treatment.”
Blades rose. Some hesitated. Some came forward at once. Tasha lifted her head. Someone was running through the smoke. It was Grain. She ran across the wet sand, pushing people aside, her face deathly pale. Their eyes met. Grain’s eyes asked why.
Tasha could not answer. Blood stained her hands. Her sword, the edge of her sleeve. Edel did not move. Tasha clenched her teeth and turned away. The kingdom’s eastern coast. Beneath the Black Cliffs. The last thing Edel had left. Clutching her bloodied sword, Tasha ran into the smoke.
Someone shouted behind her. “Catch her!”
She thought she heard Grain’s voice too. Sister. Tasha did not look back.
The lantern flickered softly. The words would not come easily. In the old photograph Edel was still smiling. The face on the wet sand she had just heard about and the smile in the photograph refused to overlap.
Tasha’s hand did not leave the photograph. Her fingertips slowly traced its edge. After moving her lips several times, she finally asked.
“Does Captain Grain… still believe that?”
Tasha did not answer right away. The sound of waves rolled low beyond the wall.
“She must.” It was a short answer.
“Then why are you telling me this?”
The corner of Tasha’s mouth lifted just a fraction. It was not her usual playful smile. “Grain said it, didn’t she? That I killed Edel.”
Grain’s captain’s quarters. The scratched photograph. The voice calling Edel’s name in feverish delirium. And the face that had chewed on Tasha’s name as if swallowing it. All of it rose at once. Tasha set the photograph down.
“When that child sees me, she won’t stop. She’ll come at me like she wants to kill me. It might even be too much for me.”
Tasha lowered her eyes for a moment, then looked at Ria. “Ria.”
“…Yes.”
“Before she reaches me, stop her. Just once.”
Ria’s eyes widened on their own. “Me?”
The answer did not come easily. Stopping Captain Grain. Just those words tightened her stomach slightly. The Black Anchor. The person whose name alone made pirates hold their breath in taverns.
The person who had crawled out onto the deck even while burning with fever and unable to stand. The person whose eyes had darkened at the mere mention of Tasha’s name. And she was supposed to stop someone like that?
“Why… me?”
Tasha looked at her for a moment. “It would be the first time since Edel.”
“What would?”
“If that child is willing to say that much, then you are probably the first person she has let her heart rest with since Edel.”
Ria was speechless. Tasha did not smile after saying it. The expression was unfamiliar. It did not belong to the pirate captain who always smiled lazily, teased people, and pretended nothing mattered. It belonged to someone who had survived on the wet sand without looking back.
Ria’s gaze fell downward on its own. “I… can’t do something like that.”
“I know.”
“Captain Grain is really scary, you know.”
“I know.”
“And I never said I’d take your side, Captain Tasha.”
“I know that too.”
The answers came so easily that it only made her angrier. Her lips pouted on their own. Running away was the right choice. It was obviously the right choice. The Black Anchor was terrifying, Captain Tasha was dangerous, and Edel’s story was far too heavy. Getting involved would clearly end badly.
Yet Tasha was looking at her with a face she had never seen before. Ria bit the inside of her cheek once. Even while she delayed her answer, Tasha did not press her. In the end Ria released the hair she had been tearing at, let out a small breath, and said,
“Sixty-forty.”
Tasha’s eyes blinked slightly. “What?”
“Sixty-forty.” She deliberately lifted her head with a confident air. “This time I’m taking sixty percent.”
Tasha stared at her blankly for a while. Growing embarrassed, Ria continued in an even grumpier tone. “You definitely said there was treasure, right? Following you to such a dangerous place for half is ridiculous.”
“…Ria.”
“I need hazard pay. I’m taking sixty percent. If you don’t like it, I’m not going.”
Tasha remained speechless for a long time, as if stunned. Normally she would have laughed immediately. She would have said something like the little nun had learned how to do business, or that she could smell money. But this time she did not. Tasha kept her lips pressed tightly together in silence for a long while, then finally gave a small, heavy, and serious nod.
“…Thank you. Truly.”
Ria turned her gaze away. “Don’t thank me yet. I only stated the contract conditions.”
“All right.”
“I mean it. I really hate losing out.”
“Yes. I’ll give you everything I own if I have to.”
Tasha’s answers were so meek compared to her usual self that Ria couldn’t even bring herself to argue further.
“…Wait a moment.”
“Hm?”
“Setting Captain Grain’s matter aside.” Tasha tilted her head as if asking what the problem was. When Ria stared at her, Tasha only blinked.
“Captain Tasha, I just told you I might be able to hold Captain Grain back even for a short time.”
“You did.”
“But you were trying to take me with you even before that.”
Tasha did not answer. Her eyes narrowed a little more.
“Why?”
“Huh? What?”
“Why did you want to bring me along so badly?”
Only then did Tasha’s face say ah, as if she had genuinely forgotten until now. The realization made Ria even more uneasy.
“Oh, I forgot. There are layers of black magic curse remnants down there.”
“…Pardon?”
“Since it’s a place a black mage hid.” Tasha spoke as if it were nothing. “Pirates wouldn’t know about such things.”
“And?”
“I thought having a cleric along might solve it.”
Ria’s eyes blinked slowly. “A cleric?”
Tasha looked at her. “You’re a nun.”
Ria’s fingertips stiffened. The collar of her old nun’s habit touched her neck. Beneath it, the nape hidden by her hair turned cold. Black magic remnants. Cleric. Nun. Her mouth closed very slowly.
Ah. She was in big trouble.