The Weight of Small Hands
“What are you so afraid of? I simply cannot understand it. Does my brother even see a Tilamin woman as a woman?”
Desidero snatched the bandages from the Duke’s hands and began wrapping them around his own wrist.
How could anyone fail to see her as a woman when she has long hair and wears a long skirt?
The Duke tore at his hair, replaying the sight of Ranlam’s retreating figure—the way her hair swayed in soft curls near her hips, and how the narrow skirt had outlined the clear curve of her rounded pelvis.
The woman had not been able to glimpse even a fraction of the Duke’s face beneath the helmet, but the man had been equally unable to look directly at hers. The Duke simply could not bring himself to meet her gaze for an entirely different reason.
Desidero kept chattering, his words sharp as needles piercing iron, aimed straight into the Duke’s deaf ears.
“Don’t be so stubborn. Think it through. I believe that woman is worth some investment. From what I hear, she’s in dire straits because of gambling debts. Feeding one girl isn’t such a difficult thing….”
Over the years, countless physicians had wasted the Duke’s money and time with half-baked promises to cure his illness. Some had been dismissed outright for suggesting methods that made no sense. Others had fled silently under the pressure. Most had simply given up, declaring the condition beyond their ability to treat.
The Duke had always accepted their decisions with a calm, if fastidious, understanding—but only when those decisions came from the hands of reputable male physicians.
“Money and expenses shouldn’t be an issue. You’ll simply need to keep her hidden. If word spreads that a devout believer like you is relying on the medicine of a heretic, nothing good will come of it. You’ll invite far more ridicule than necessary.”
Neither money nor time, nor even the fact that the woman was Tilamin, mattered to the Duke of Paeroa. What troubled him was her small hands—those small, soft hands. He had never once entrusted himself to hands so smooth and slender.
Damn it. Her fingers were tiny… She examined me with those ridiculously small fingers.
The man’s hands still trembled at the thought. Ever since the woman had touched him, that hand had felt stiff and rigid, so he clenched it tightly on impulse.
Today she would wear gloves, but next time she would ask him to roll up his sleeves, and after that, to remove his shirt.
Showing my bare skin to a woman…
The Duke lacked the courage to endure such humiliation. The mere thought made it feel as though every blister on his body might burst at once.
***
In one corner of Saltcoast, people clung to the great rocks like barnacles. Tichite Ranlam’s home occupied one small space within that honeycomb of dwellings. She had been calculating how many days remained until rent was due when exhaustion overtook her; she collapsed onto the bed without even changing her clothes.
So when morning came, she opened her eyes feeling as though she had woken from a dream she had never actually had.
Hey, Tichi. Wake up. Hey. Hey!
A voice rough as sand and dust shook her awake. When she opened her eyes, Nirgi was sitting at her bedside.
Nirgi, the late riser, waking her? It was a rare occurrence indeed.
Tichite rubbed her eyes and gathered her thoughts, then realized the truth. Her brother had not risen early—he had spent the night outside and only returned home with the dawn. She did not need to ask where he had wasted the hours; the answer was obvious. He had surely been hunched over a gambling table until morning.
“Did everything go well yesterday?”
Nirgi asked in an unpleasantly gentle tone—the same voice he used whenever he wanted to take something from her.
“What kind of patient was it? Was it something you could handle? How long do you think it’ll take? How much did they give you? That two thousand karso from yesterday wasn’t just a down payment, was it?”
Questions poured out, thick with expectation. He was clearly desperate to know whether his sister had found a generous patron. Given that the client had casually paid off a large debt, Nirgi’s wild hopes were not entirely unreasonable.
The man’s eyes sparkled with unshakable belief that a great sum of money would soon arrive, and he watched his sister eagerly, waiting for her answer.
Tichite could not reply at once; her throat was hoarse from the cold morning air. She longed to shatter his expectations, yet she also feared what would follow. If she told the truth, she would have to brace herself for being called an idiot, a fool, a moron—and for the beating that would surely come with it. The price of disappointing him would not be light.
So she mixed a lie into her answer.
“It was just a mild skin condition.”
“What? A skin condition? That’s your specialty.”
Nirgi broke into a rare, bright smile.
“So? Are you planning to keep making house calls?”
“No, no. It wasn’t that serious.”
Tichite waved her hands dismissively at her brother’s hopeful face.
“I just prescribed some medicine… so there’s no reason for me to go back.”
When she tried to temper his expectations in advance, Nirgi exploded in anger.
“Hey! How could you finish it so easily every time? You should act like it’s difficult, like it’ll take forever, like only you can do it—stretch it out and squeeze out more money! When an opportunity comes, you have to grab it!”
He slumped down as though he had completely lost his appetite and grumbled.
“I guess I’ll have to go with you from now on. You’re terrible at bargaining.”
Tichite snorted inwardly at his words. She could still picture him trembling like a leaf, practically shoving his sister’s hand into the knight’s grasp while begging for his life. And yet he spoke so confidently now.
Nirgi picked up a dried anchovy that had fallen under the table and began chewing it noisily. The biggest wave had passed, but he seemed to be waiting for the smaller ripples that might follow.
“Still, you’ll probably get another introduction soon, right? I’ve been spreading the word about how skilled you are with noble ladies’ skin care.”
That’s not spreading the word—that’s just empty boasting. And if things go wrong, it’ll be like telling a snake where the nest is.
She had heard he was talking about her at the gambling dens. It felt less like promotion and more like exposing her to danger.
Nirgi looked at Tichite’s sullen face and asked,
“So how much did you earn?”
He stared at her with a face half full of expectation and half suspicion, as if demanding she show him the money. Tichite felt a jolt of alarm. Small lies always invited larger ones to swell their ranks.
According to what she had said, she had earned money somehow—whether daily or weekly wages. That meant she would have to hand over a portion to Nirgi, even if she had to invent the amount.
“I… I have to pay the rent.”
Tichite hesitated before answering. At least that part was true.
“Fine. That’s why I’m offering to multiply it for you.”
Nirgi rapped his knuckles against Tichite’s head. There was a reason for his strangely triumphant air.
“Do you know how much I won after I sent you off yesterday? I took every coin I had and turned it into ten times that amount. It was insane! Just think—if I’d had that two thousand karso from yesterday, how much would that have been?”
Nirgi rubbed his hands together in the air, still thrilled by the memory of that winning streak.
Tichite was speechless with disbelief. That money had not been lost unfairly, nor had it been stolen by force. He had willingly carried it to the gambling table himself. Someone had even repaid it for him. In other words, it was money Nirgi could have done without.
Yet all he could say was that if he had not lost it… if he had kept it… if he had been able to bet it…
There was no lesson or plan in Nirgi’s life. He never looked at the past, and the future was even more unknown to him. No ordinary person could follow the logic of an incurable gambler.
“Two thousand karso? Whose dog is named that? Obviously the money you received yesterday was only part of the payment. I never even touched it—you used it all to pay off your debt.”
Tichite feigned irritation and played innocent, but because it was not the truth, her heart pounded in every direction. She had contributed nothing to solving the Duke’s problem. If he ever demanded the money back, she would be in an extremely awkward position. Completely unaware of her predicament, Nirgi continued to say things that made her blood boil.
“I’ve really been on a roll lately, you know? Yesterday, if I’d played just one more round, I could’ve turned it into twenty times instead of ten. Really—I’ve got the feel for it these days.”