“That blondie is tricking you!”
Hyland had beautiful, eye-catching blond hair, as was appropriate for someone with royal blood.
Myuri, for some reason, regarded him with blind hostility. She was attached to the mysterious mixture of ash and silver that was her own hair, so perhaps she regarded him as an enemy.
“I am not being tricked. What Heir Hyland is doing is very important.”
“Yes, you are. You’re too softhearted, and people can lure you into anything!”
He would take the “softhearted” part as a compliment. “Then, how do you think I am being tricked?” Col retorted, biting into the meal Myuri had made for him. If he told that fireball everything without giving her a chance, he would be the one tiring out. As with his lectures, he had no choice but to let her talk and talk and confuse herself before she would give in.
That was also how he had dealt with her vicious attacks this past week.
But Myuri, too, was likely getting a feel for this strategy. As she glared at him, munching on her bread, she appeared to be building up her strength.
“Aughm, nom…gulp. You are. Because it’s weird! That blondie is a powerful person in the kingdom or whatever, right? So why would someone like that go to you for help?”
Col was aware that he was naturally meek, and he was proud of his modesty. Myuri had pointed that out with this in mind, and he knew he should simply accept it, but of course, certain things he could not budge on.
“The scholars and high-ranking clergy who come to Nyohhira have always regarded me highly. You may not think so, but—” It was embarrassing for him to sing his own praises, but he had no choice. “—but they’re right.”
“Hmph.”
Myuri regarded him with narrowed eyes and then snorted. They were not the eyes of the little sister who wagged her tail innocently and called out to him, “Brother, Brother!”
They were the same eyes as a dancer who was rather harsh with men watching an intoxicated guest’s loud boasting.
“Um, Brother? Even I know the visiting priests are important people. Important people have dignity, and that’s what makes them great. You’re not like them.”
Those were the words of a child who had never left her village deep in the mountains.
“Sigh…Listen, Myuri. There is an account of this in the scripture. God bestowed his words onto a prophet, who returned to the village where he was born. His relatives said to him: ‘You do not hesitate to say that God has given his word to you, but we ask that you must stop such exaggerations. We know that you have always been a normal child.’ Then, the prophet said to his disciples: ‘Take something in your hand and bring it close to your eyes. The closer you are, the less you can see of its true shape.’”
The scripture was full of meaning from this perspective. As Col mulled over the words, Myuri spoke.
“But there are also things that you can only see because you’re close!”
“…For example?” Col replied with a question, sighing.
Myuri’s eyes glinted coolly.
“When Miss Helen and the other dancing girls tease you, your face immediately goes red and you get all flustered.”
“Wha—?”
A dagger of ice came flying at him from a completely unexpected direction.
“Whenever I see it I think how there’s really nothing sadder than that. You know a lot about the scripture, Brother, but does the scripture teach you how to talk to girls?”
The dagger plunged deep into his chest and twisted mercilessly.
While his breath was failing him, Myuri bit into what was left of her bread, chewing in disappointment.
“The older guests know how to treat girls, for that matter. They seem to know when to act shy, and that actually makes them more attractive. I think that’s what makes someone an important person.”
Even those who were rather learned and well versed when it came to theology were just old men when they soaked in the waters of Nyohhira and ogled the half-naked dancers. He could not bring himself to bring it up with them directly, but he had no way of knowing how many “nieces” and “nephews” these men had despite their supposed celibacy.
So Col secretly thought that since he adhered to his abstinence, there was no mistaking that he would achieve much greater things than them. However, Myuri’s assessment was the opposite.
“Mother says this a lot to Father.” Myuri cleared her throat and imitated her mother, Holo. “You act like you understand everything about the world, but you shall never see more than half if you do not understand women! There is nothing in this world but women and men!”
His chest was in so much pain he felt faint, and that was when Myuri landed the finishing blow.
“And, Brother, have you even held hands with another girl besides me?”
Col was about to protest that he had at least done that, but the first person who came to mind was Myuri’s mother, Holo. And Holo was a mother figure, not just for Myuri but for Col as well. If he argued that he had held hands with Holo, Myuri would roll on the floor laughing and perhaps regard him with some worry.
However, he could not leave the question unanswered. He raised his own spirits by reassuring himself that what he wanted to accomplish was much too complicated to be comprehended by a little girl.
“Wh-whatever the case, I believe that Heir Hyland—and by extension, the Kingdom of Winfiel—are in the right, so I decided to go on a journey where I could be of some help to them. And I would rather be unacquainted with the opposite sex. The vows of abstinence will only strengthen my faith!”
He became defiant—no one could understand this pride. In reality, vows of abstinence were the butt of ridicule, and priests who kept to them were few and far between.
But Col was all right with that. He could not die for his faith, so how could he keep moving forward?
“That is why—”
Just as he was about to speak to Myuri, she quickly stuffed the rest of the bread in her mouth, licked her fingers, and interrupted him.
“That’s why I have to stay by your side.”
“Ah…What?”
“Mother was worried, too. She said you’re super-reliable, but since girls are a weakness of yours, you might get roped into something troublesome. She said it would be awful if you came back to Nyohhira all proud of yourself with some weird girl, after you finished your work.”
“…”
“Mother’s worried that Father might be conned by someone, so she won’t leave Nyohhira. That means I’ll be with you because I’m the one who needs to keep an eye on you,” Myuri said with a grin.
He wondered why he found that smile so frightening, and the answer was because she was the spitting image of her mother, Holo. The wisewolf would often laugh like this as she amused herself treating Lawrence, a top-class merchant who had participated in the tumult that irrevocably changed the northlands ten years ago, as if he were a child.
Myuri swished her tail back and forth, like a wolf watching its prey try to escape.
Col gulped, and Myuri slid closer.
“And I’m worried about you, too, Brother. I’m serious.”
There was more than a head’s difference in height between them, so when Myuri stood next to Col, she only reached his chest.
She gazed up at him with wide eyes.
The magic of it scattered the words of the sentence he was about to say, but he somehow kept himself grounded in reality. Bread crumbs and bits of cheese stuck goofily to her lips.
“…First, wipe your mouth.”
“Huh? Oh.”
She hurriedly wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Then, when she glanced at him, her smile seemed like an attempt to hide that her mischief had been found out.
“You’re growing up to be an odd person…”
He hung his head, and Myuri stood on her tiptoes to pat him.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Mother told me to look after you. Leave it to me.”
“…”
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She was half his age. He heard her cries when she was born; he had often changed her diapers. Countless times, she had crawled under the covers with him so that she did not get frostbite during the winter months, only to wet the bed and start sobbing while he soothed her and cleaned up.
That girl had, at some point, become this.
Of course, her mother was a master of the weapon known as womanhood, so it was natural that her daughter be the same.
He wished he could speak with Lawrence about it.
“So I can travel with you, right?”
He was unsure why she was suddenly speaking so lightheartedly, but he was well aware that he was no match for her when Holo was on her side.
And Myuri knew exactly what she needed to.
“Of course, I won’t bother you. I don’t know anything about God.”
That was certainly a problem, but perhaps Myuri, with the blood of ancient spirits flowing through her veins, had the right to disregard a God whose existence was not certain.
“But I’ll be sure to point out anything you miss straight away, my careless Brother.”
He wanted to check to see where that confidence came from, but it was likely because she had the blood of a wolf, the ruler of the forest.
“Oh, and, Brother?”
“…What is it?” he responded with fatigue, as Myuri hesitantly pointed at something.
“Do you still want that?”
She was pointing at his half-eaten food, and he sighed.
“Go ahead.”
He handed it to her, and she bit into it happily, even though she had just finished a large piece. As Col watched her, he could not help the defeated smile spreading on his face.
And once it did, he lost.
“Haa-haw?” (“What’s wrong?”) Myuri asked, her mouth stuffed with bread, and Col patted her head before pointing to a chair.
“Sit down and eat.”
Myuri quietly obeyed and plopped down onto the chair.
Her apparent obedience at times like these was another of her crafty tricks. He understood it all.
“Oh God, please grant me strength…”
As he chanted the name of his eternal companion, he sighed.
CHAPTER TWO
The following day, Col awoke before dawn. It was the time of night when the moon still shone brightly and the mountain air was at its coldest.
Those around him often praised him for being a hard worker who did not mind waking up early, but the truth was, he was sleepy. To him, it was all for show. As he mentally reviewed the list of duties he had to do today at the bathhouse, he realized something odd.
Outside, he could hear voices and footsteps on gravel.
And above him was an unfamiliar ceiling, and he was in a different bed.
“…Ah.”
He remembered that he had left on a journey.
Then, when he moved to get up, he realized there was another person in the bed. It was Myuri, who only behaved when she was asleep. He had put her to sleep in the other bed, so she must have switched during the night.
It was hot under the covers, thanks to her body heat and fluffy tail.
They had argued over this and that last night, and the reason Myuri wanted to travel was most likely because she was bored of the village. Though she worried about him with some reluctance, the worry itself was real.
Her silver hair looked strangely dewy even though it was not wet or oiled. If he ran his hands through it, the strands would slip through his fingers. Holo was proud of the beautiful lay of the fur on her tail, but Myuri’s pride came from this color that she inherited from her father.
As he stroked her head, her animal ears twitched. But there was no sign of her waking. She probably would not wake up if he shook her shoulders. He smiled slightly and got out from under the blanket.
He opened the window, and it was cold enough outside to freeze his breath, though there was no wind or snow.
There were already people moving about in the square, which had been busy late into the night, and the riverbeds beyond it. They were probably heading out to catch the morning markets in the watershed towns.
He closed the shutters, put on his coat, took his scripture in hand, and went down to the first floor. The ice in the back well had already been broken, so he scooped up some water into a tub and washed his face and brushed his teeth with the smashed end of a tree branch, then did his daily recitation of the scripture. Other guests came to wash their faces as he did so, and they took advantage of the situation by bowing their heads to his recitation, taking it as protection for the road. It was like catching rain in a tub, but he did not dislike the frank practicality of the merchants.
The problem was that even though he did his recitations for longer than usual, the sun still had not risen, and he had no work to do afterward. He grew bored, and that troubled him slightly.
In the end, since it would also be a waste to do nothing, he headed to the riverside and helped with the loading and unloading of cargo. When the sky began to lighten, he returned to the room.
“You work too much, brother…”
He finally managed to wake Myuri, who could sleep through any disturbance, and when he recounted all he had done so far, she fussed about his excessive zeal.
Though she sat up straight, her eyes would not open because of how tired she was. She hugged her tail for warmth and yawned loudly.
“This is what it means to travel with me. Are you giving up?”
Her ears stood up straight as she struggled to open her eyes.
“N-no fair!”
“It is fair. All right, put your ears and tail away and wash your face. Get ready quickly or I’ll leave you behind.”
“Sheesh!”
She puffed up her cheeks and tail, then retrieved a handkerchief and other things from her bag. Upon closer inspection, there were two combs and three brushes. He could not see what she needed so many for. As he pondered questions more difficult than those of theology, Myuri left the room with an odd parting comment.
“I’m going to groom my hair in the baths.”
When he turned toward her, the door had already closed.
Then, before long, she came running back in.
“B-Brother, where are the baths?!”
“The baths?”
“Th-there’s nothing but a well, and…and when I looked inside, th-there was ice in it…I can’t wash my hair without the baths!”
Myuri was half in tears, and like a priest hearing a profound complaint, Col lifted his head. After that, he nodded slowly as if he deeply agreed.
Hot spring water bubbled up everywhere in Nyohhira, to the point that it was disposable. Myuri was born and raised there. There were many stories of noble girls who left their manors for the first time and discovered how blessed they had been, but he did not imagine such a tale would play out before his eyes.
It would be a lie to say he did not gain a slightest sadistic enjoyment from it.
“There are no baths here. This isn’t Nyohhira.”
“Oh…”
“Is this too hard? If it is, then you can…”
“I won’t quit! I won’t!”
Myuri declared her intentions and, with wide strides, stomped back out into the hallway.
It was a strength of hers that she was not easily discouraged, at least.
The hair care that the dancer Helen told Myuri about consisted of the following: After combing the hair out, go over it carefully with a long-haired brush and a short-haired brush, both made from the mane of a horse, and then a brush made of pig’s hair. Col thought it odd that so much brushing did not instead damage the hair, but at any rate, it was practically self-harm for Myuri to wash her hair while it was so cold out.
When she returned to the room, her lips were blue, and she was shivering.
“…Honestly.”
He removed his overcoat and covered her with it.
“And while you were performing ablutions outside, a l
etter came.”
Out of some respect, he used the term “ablutions” for her willpower to wash her hair in ice water simply for appearances’ sake. He, of course, also meant it sarcastically, so she eyed him spitefully.
“Wh-wh…what…achoo! L-letter?”
“It seems to have come by boat from Nyohhira.”
It apparently could not reach them the night before, so it spent the night at a checkpoint farther upstream and came on the first vessel out that morning. A considerable amount of money had been paid for its delivery, so the captain who brought it mistook the missive for an important, confidential letter of a noble.
“It’s from Lawrence…and Holo.”
He opened the letter, read the inside, and could not help a wry smile. Myuri, curled up inside the coat that was clearly much too big for her, tilted her head like a kitten. Col handed the letter to her, and she made an unreadable smile. Though it had taken extraordinary effort to teach her, she was able to read to a certain extent as a result.
In the letter, there were countless spelling mistakes to show that Lawrence was panicking as he asked about Myuri’s safety, stating that he would go get her as soon as possible, but a large X had been mercilessly drawn over it.
Then, something else was written in the margin with unique handwriting.
“‘T-take care of,’ Broth…Achoo!”
“It says, ‘Take care of Myuri,’” he responded with a sigh, and Myuri returned the letter, sniffling and teeth chattering. “I was slightly hoping they would stop you.”
Holo had brushed aside Lawrence’s opinions, though he was the head of the household. This family would certainly be one of strong women.
“Spare the rod and spoil the ch…Hachoo!”
He looked at Myuri, and after she sniffled, a wide grin that displayed her canines appeared on her face.
“I’m the one who should be spared.”
Myuri was about to protest when she sneezed loudly again.
After writing a response to Lawrence and Holo, they ate the previous night’s leftovers as breakfast. They left a letter with the innkeeper, finished their preparations, and headed to the riverside. A fire was still blazing there, so Myuri dried her damp hair. Passing boatmen smiled at the sight, thinking she had fallen into the well.