A Request for Salvation (3)

"You seem to have taken to tying your hair up rather often these days."

"...Do I?"

At Lotos's question, Adele fingered a loose strand of hair. It wasn't something she paid any mind to — though now that he mentioned it, she had been binding it a little often of late. She had simply tied it because the tie was there, nothing more.

Leaving the hair tie out in plain sight before bed was a secret known to her alone, so Adele shook her head as though it were nothing and let the matter drop. It suits you— She hadn't been tying her hair in hopes of hearing such things. Truly, she only bound it because it was there. So she told herself, blinking slowly.

And yet the very man who'd called it becoming hadn't breathed a word since.

A slight crease formed between her brows, but she soon sorted through the thought rising in her mind and turned back to her work. A week had already slipped by since she ordered the subjugation; with preparations sufficiently underway, it was time to give the order to march. How much time would the Barbarian Subjugation demand of them?

Tap, tap. Adele drummed her pen against her lips and began writing. Even by rough estimate, the northwestern and western regions slated for this campaign were not so vast a stretch of land. The only stronghold of real importance, when she thought on it, was the Teranite Mine where the Princess was staying. If only for the chance that the barbarians might move to strike it, the sooner matters were settled, the better.

Besides, the western tribes were the trickiest of the lot, and last year's unfinished business still gnawed at her. Best to see the decision to ride west as the weave of several reasons — surely that was the sensible reading. The one certainty, for now, was that they would march within hours. Once the adjutants assembled and the army converged, that alone would mark the subjugation's beginning.

The speech... well, Lotos would see to that. There was, in truth, little for Adele herself to prepare. She needed only to take up her sword and set aside a bit of meat for the wolf.

"It is nearly time to depart, Your Grace."

"Yes. I know."

Adele's hand, resting on her sword, drifted up toward her hair. A part of her wondered whether it was about time to let it down — but she soon smirked wryly and withdrew her hand. Better to watch and see whether he truly said nothing again today. And if he said nothing?

...Then he simply said nothing. What of it? As if that were any great matter.

She gave her hip a light pat to brush the thoughts away, then started back toward the field where the soldiers had gathered.

This was my second time taking part in the Barbarian Subjugation. The first time I fought alongside Adele, the campaign had already been drawing to a close; the second, I had gone north in the early ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠days of my regression and joined her from the very start. Back then I had long since settled into the adjutant's role, so I never felt this awkwardness. After all, how many people would act warm and familiar with an adjutant who had joined barely a week ago?

If there was one mercy, it was that Bunta, at least, treated me remarkably well. With Lotos, his schemes were written plainly across his face — his kindness was anything but sincere.

Adele's destined beloved, was it? From the scraps of adjutant gossip I had overheard, I had somehow been recast as a man who had spent his days chasing at Adele's heels. Come to think of it, Adele was the one who asked me to be her partner for the Full Moon Festival. Lotos hadn't been with her back then, so perhaps he simply didn't know.

There were a few things I might have corrected, but I never stepped forward to say them. It was a luxury I could afford, believing that in time it would come out that we were nothing to one another. Adele, for her part, didn't seem particularly bothered by it either.

"Robert, quit trembling. It'll all be wrapped up within a week anyway."

"I'm not nervous. I simply didn't expect us to head west first."

I had assumed we would sweep the approaches to the northwest, where the Princess would be — but the west? I knew full well that Adele lived as she pleased, yet in the past she had always begun in the south and worked her way counterclockwise, leaving the west for last. I couldn't fathom why, this time, we were marching so faithfully clockwise.

At my question, Lotos ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shrugged as though he understood it all perfectly and spoke.

"Ordinarily we would begin in the south and save the west for last. But with Her Highness the Princess coming... the plan fell apart, you see."

"I'm aware you fought in the west last year. If anything, that's why I assumed the northwest would come first."

"She has been rather out of sorts, one way or another. The attention ought to be hers — and then someone quite unexpected appeared instead, didn't he?"

Attention? Before the word could even settle in my mind, Adele's voice came from behind us.

"Is everyone gathered? That was quick. There's a little while yet before we march."

"You've arrived, Your Grace."

Her tied hair streamed on the wind. I watched quietly as the silver strands swayed like a banner. I had noticed her binding it up often of late, but I hadn't expected her to come out with it tied today as well. What reason could she have for staring at me like that?

The weight of that gaze made me glance away, and Adele frowned, closing the distance. Her hair swayed gently with every step, and each time it stirred, a faint scent of roses drifted over. The wolf at her side was imposing enough in its own right, but it was truthfully Adele's eyes on me that occupied my attention. Unable to endure the piercing stare a moment longer, I smirked wryly. It seemed I would have to find out what this was about.

"...Have I done something wrong?"

"No. Have I said anything to you?"

"You've been staring at me this whole time. I spent all of yesterday in my room, as it happens."

"Hm. Did you, now."

Adele answered with perfect composure, but I could tell she nursed a small grievance. This was how she always got when there was something she wanted to say and couldn't — which meant the trick lay in finding out why. And what was it Adele wanted? For now, keeping the conversation flowing naturally came first.

"It seems unexpected that we aren't heading ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the northwest first. Is there a reason?"

"Her Highness will have her own escort, so even if a few barbarians slip through, it's no great matter. Besides, I intend to finish clearing the west as swiftly as possible. We're completing what we left undone last year."

"...Well, if that's the reasoning, I've nothing to say."

The reason Adele was so unusually fixated on the west was the tribes that dwelt there. Or, more precisely, the chieftain who led them — Temuchin. He had slithered free of her grasp at every subjugation, so this time, no doubt, her aim was to finish him once and for all. The one comfort was that this year, he could be taken. And catching that man had only ever been possible with my help.

I barely held down the impatience clawing up within me. It would be a lie to say I wasn't worried. Mirazen, out in the northwest, weighed on my mind whether I liked it or not. I had tried reaching her earlier, but she hadn't answered — busy, perhaps. For now, I told myself, sweeping the west clean and fast was all that mattered.

"You'll be riding a wolf this time as well. Did you get your reins?"

"I did. Borrowed, most likely — but it obeys me well enough."

"I see... so that's how it is."

From the way she drew out her words, she seemed about to be off — but a sudden thought made my lips hover. I doubted it came to that. Still, one could never be too sure.

"You seem to be tying your hair up rather often these days. Is that because of what I said?"

"Ha. Even jokes have their li—"

Adele's head snapped around; her eyes narrowed into a scornful smile. Her face asked whether I truly believed that, so I set my doubts aside and pressed on.

"Well, I think wearing it down suits you as well. Tied is better when you're moving, I'll grant — but day to day, you seem more at ease with it loose."

"...Pick one. And stop confusing people."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Forget it. I'll decide for myself."

She muttered something in a voice too low to catch, and when I asked her to say it again, Adele only shook her head and pulled the tie free. Her signature silver hair spilled loose across the wind, and with it the scent of roses spread through the air. She smoothed her hair a few times with her hand, took up the reins, and began walking ahead.

"Follow. It's time we marched."

The wolf gave a low rumble as she swung up into the saddle, and Adele smiled softly. Her lips gleamed in the dying sunset. Her eyes, always shining blue, looked for a moment like amethyst, and I stared blankly at the sight before I finally managed to nod.

Her attire was, in truth, a far cry from that of any ordinary noble lady. Sword at her hip, armor on her frame, a wolf beneath her — the garb of a sovereign at war. And yet, who else in this world could wear it half so well?

I walked on, watching the silver hair scatter along the wind. Riding my own wolf with the reins in hand, I had drifted close enough that our sides nearly touched before I noticed. Heaven knew how long we rode toward the mustered soldiers before, in that soft-flowing silence, Adele spoke first.

"Does the Princess weigh on you? You've been checking that artifact of yours nonstop."

"...A little. I don't expect anything to go wrong, but it is a dangerous region all the same, isn't it?"

At that answer, Adele studied me for a long moment, then put on a curious expression. Faintly displeased, she worried at her lip, and our eyes met. A soft sigh escaped her, white breath misting the air. Adele watched the haze curl up toward the sky, then murmured — a whisper, a voice small enough for me alone.

"It shouldn't bother me at all..."

She laughed briefly at her own expense, then shifted her gaze back to me.

"I don't understand why it's your words, of all things, that stick ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with me so."

"I'm afraid I don't take your meaning."

"I mean don't let it show that the Princess is on your mind — not in front of me. It's starting to grate. I'm right here, and still you keep fretting over someone else."

I barely had time to tilt my head at the cryptic remark before Adele smiled faintly and pulled her reins first. Her wolf, startled, kicked off and darted ahead, and the distance between us widened at once.

It's starting to grate, she had said. I turned the meaning of those words over, and before long a wry smile crept across my face.

...In this cycle as well — surely not.

No. There was no need to agonize over it now. Time was scarce enough just for looking toward the end. Hadn't my wish in this life been an eternal death? There was no sense, I thought, in entertaining idle fancies and leaving regrets behind.

I shook my head hard, several times over, then pulled my reins and pressed on. The wind rose and brushed my cheek. The setting sun spread like flung paint, staining the world, and when I closed my eyes it felt as though the wind of these plains had wrapped itself around me. I had thought the knot in my chest would finally burst open — it didn't, and I shut my eyes for no reason at all. All in all, my head felt a very tangled place.

"How goes the Teranite ore? I was hoping for some results by now."

"Well... we've nothing concrete to report yet, Your Highness."

At the mage's words, Mirazen's brow creased. She had come all this way at a single word — focus on the northwest — and yet the promised results had failed to appear even after all this time. Had pushing the research ahead of schedule been a misjudgment? Danger zone or not, she had wrangled permission and come running, and now, with Teranite refusing to show itself day after day, her body and mind were simply wearing thin.

Had Robert Taylor lied to her? She couldn't bring herself to believe it. She had even gone out of her way to help him back when he was entangled with that Young Matriarch — would a man turn around and lie about something like this?

Once Robert Taylor came to mind, her thoughts ran swiftly on to the fact that he was in the North. It was recent news, that he had taken up the post of Adele's adjutant himself. By her understanding, his martial prowess was nothing exceptional, so she supposed he would handle administration, much like that man Lotos. If things brought him out this far, might she get to see him once? In truth, she felt a faint pang of disappointment.

Contacting him through the artifact was impossible whenever she was buried in work — lately their hours had kept missing one another, and she hadn't managed so much as a single exchange with Robert.

There was something distinctly strange about the voice recorded in that artifact. It fussed over her as though she had been hurt once, long ago. Did he say such things because she was the Imperial Princess — or because he truly worried? Mirazen turned the question over for a while, then stretched her arms high in a long yawn.

What did any of it matter now? The Teranite wasn't showing itself. So she sat idle for a time, then began fiddling with the artifact — hoping Robert would answer, and if not, well, so long as the call connected at all.

Beep—

The signal tone rang on and on — then, a moment later, it cut off without a sound, hollow and final. She let out a small sigh. No connection again. All this while it had been her failing to answer; now it was Robert who seemed too busy.

"So this time it's the other end that won't pick up."

What a tangle everything had become. With that thought, Mirazen lay down on the bed and let her eyes drift shut. She meant to stay here three days more, no longer. If nothing came of it by then, she would have to return to the capital.

And yet the reluctance lingered, so Mirazen reached for the artifact once more. She tried again and again, and again and again it failed to connect — right up until she flung it aside in irritation.