Call Me Second
"Second."
"Yes, Third."
"Second."
"Yes, youngest."
Cradling Bariya in his arms, Sirca wandered the garden with a slack, besotted grin, looking every bit the fool.
Baden had a backlog waiting from his time away, and Sabrina still had business she hadn't settled, so neither of them could spare a moment. Thanks to those very busy parents, Sirca claimed every bit of this first stretch of time with the younger sibling he had only just gained.
"How long do I have to keep this up?"
"Why? Tired of it already?"
When Sirca pulled a wounded face, Bariya only shrugged.
"It's not that. If you want, I'll keep going."
"Then do it again."
"Second."
"Yes, our beloved youngest."
At her call, Sirca's face broke into a brilliant smile. He had insisted she address him as Second for the whole of their walk, the better to savor the joy of having become one family. It was hardly a difficult thing to ask, so Bariya kept at it until he was satisfied.
As long as it isn't oppa.
She knew perfectly well that oppa was the proper thing to call him. But Sirca, an oppa……? No. That title didn't suit him in the slightest. And to her surprise, he wasn't even asking for it—he was perfectly content to be Second. So she meant to keep calling him that.
Stuck watching the spectacle from up close in Bariya's arms, Kkamangi snorted, the very picture of a beast who had had more than enough. Brother and sister alike, though, the two of them were shameless to the bone, and a protest that small never so much as grazed their ears.
"The garden looks a little different."
Bariya glanced around. The gardens of Caliph had never been especially full of flowers, nor particularly showy. No one in the household cared much for blossoms, so everything had been planned for use alone. And yet in the space of a mere ten days, the place had changed. Flowers she had never seen stood here and there, and the trees and grasses—once trimmed only roughly to a matching size—had all been shaped into something pleasing to the eye.
"What, you don't like it?"
"It's not that. I was just wondering why it got so fancy all of a sudden. Almost as if someone meant to show it off……."
"Right. Exactly. There came a reason it needed showing."
Bariya tilted her head.
"To whom?"
"To everyone."
Strange. When she asked Sirca something, the answer was rarely this vague.
"Would it be better if I didn't know, for now?"
"If you'd pretend you don't, that'd be nice. Don't worry. You'll find out soon enough."
"All right."
When the people of Caliph—no, when the ones who were family now—chose not to tell her something, they always had a reason, so Bariya nodded. And from the look on his face, it didn't seem like anything bad.
"Hm?"
They had only just gone back to the walk, Bariya calling him Second again, when it happened.
Sniff, sniff. I've smelled this somewhere before.
A strange scent had threaded itself through air that was fresh with flowers, stirring two feelings at once—revulsion, and a bright little thrill.
"Ah."
A step later, Sirca caught it too and stopped dead. The softness drained from his face, and in an instant it twisted.
"We took a wrong turn. Let's go somewhere else, youngest."
"No. You came the right way, Sirca."
Before Sirca could turn them around, someone stepped out from deeper in the garden. Bright blond hair, vivid yellow eyes, a face just a shade less handsome than Sirca's.
"Oh. If it isn't the incompetent lion beastkin who blew through his Authority just to catch one ten-year-old."
None other than Rioric, heir of House Leotel—the very man she had seen at the illegal underground auction. At Bariya's brazen little briefing, index finger raised, he let out a hollow laugh.
"Introducing me in my place. How very grateful."
"I've always been good at summaries. Honestly, being good at everything is exhausting."
Bariya shook her head. Rioric looked utterly dumbfounded, as if he had never met a beastkin whose talent for self-praise was quite this outstanding.
"Youngest, there's no need to waste words on an incompetent lion. This place is contaminated. Let's walk another path."
The moment Sirca moved to leave, Rioric darted ahead and blocked their way.
"You said that once Caliph's youngest came home, you'd let me meet her. You're not going to break a promise, are you?"
Thanks to his negotiations with Sabrina, Rioric had won permission to remain at the Caliph Estate until Bariya arrived. For laying hands on a girl who was now direct blood of Caliph, he had paid a considerable price—but set against the chance to keep his life, it was nothing. He had counted the days until she got here, and now they meant to keep him from even seeing her?
"Caliph doesn't break promises. But we never said when we'd let you meet her, did we?"
The only one in a hurry was him. Sirca, who had not a single reason to rush, shrugged.
"Our youngest only just came home after ten days. Once she's rested well, eaten her fill, and slept plenty, we'll arrange a proper meeting."
At the shameless words, Rioric ground his teeth. But he was the one who needed something. Even now, the only person who could stop the poison spreading through him was Bariya. They already looked on him poorly because of the auction. He could not afford to make it any worse.
"Our girl only just found out you're even here. She'll rest first, and after that we'll explain your situation, so wait. You're the one who did wrong, aren't you?"
There was nothing incorrect in what Sirca said.
"……Fine."
In the end, Rioric gave ground. Sirca was glaring at him coldly, on the point of leaving, when—
"No, I don't particularly need an explanation. I can tell what this is, so hold on."
Sirca faltered.
"Wait, little sister……."
"Yeah, yeah. I know you're worried, and I get it—now that it's come to this, you wanted to leave the bastard hurting a little longer."
But Bariya had grasped everything at a single glance, and in the end he had no choice but to give in. Sirca, who had fully intended to let the man suffer a few days more as payment for tormenting her, drooped. Sabrina felt the same way; she would be disappointed if she heard. There was simply no hiding anything from Bariya. She was far too quick.
"The poison's spread quite a lot, hasn't it. There's a fair amount of it mixed into your pheromone."
Bariya smiled as she studied Rioric's pale face.
I knew the smell was unpleasant. So that's why it excited me.
She still disliked the scent of him, the one that had grated on her so—but she understood now why he had come, and that was what had thrilled her.
"Yes. I looked into every method there is, and no medicine could neutralize it. Even the Belchers' Poison Authority was useless."
Rioric sighed and lifted his left hand. It trembled faintly, stained pitch-black. Worse, black poison was seeping out with the discharge from the wound Bariya had left across the back of it.
They say the Belchers' Authority is the strongest of any tied to poison—and even their power doesn't work?
Inwardly startled, Bariya looked down at Kkamangi in her arms. He only yawned, wide and perfectly at ease. It was a far more extraordinary poison than she had thought.
"My Kkamangi is pretty impressive, I'll give him that."
She played it perfectly cool. Rioric, who hadn't caught even a hint that she was just as startled, regarded the little tiger with a complicated look.
"What is that thing, exactly? How does a tiger have poison, and what is it to you?"
"And what exactly would you do with that?"
She knew nothing at all about Kkamangi, but once again she pretended she did.
"A beastkin who came begging for a cure, trying to squeeze information out of me on top of it. Fond of that black hand, are you?"
At the warning that she would not detoxify him if he kept prying, Rioric shook his head at once.
"That wasn't my intention. I apologize. Honestly, I don't want the slightest connection to it anymore."
He let out a sigh. The poison consuming his left hand was truly vicious. Only the Authority of Telekinesis he possessed, together with the Belchers' Authority, had slowed its progress even a little. Without that, he would have been a corpse the very day it took him.
What kind of poison can't even be drawn out with telekinesis?
He was desperate to know the identity of the red-eyed tiger staring straight at him, but his life came first. He wanted out of this thing that was stabbing at his nerves like a madman.
"So I'm asking you. I'll give you whatever you want—please, just cure me."
"Sure."
He had bowed his head, even, and the answer came back so easily that his eyes went wide.
"Youngest!"
Sirca, who had been watching Rioric as if braced for a fight, was no less startled.